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TALKS 


ON 


TEMPERANCE 


BY 

REV.   CANON    FARRAR,    D.D.,  F.R.S. 


NEW  YORK: 
Ifational  Temperance  Society  and  Publication  Hous^, 

58     READE     STREET. 
1880. 


J2. 


HV 


CONTENTS. 


Between  the   Living  and  the  Dead, 


Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer, 


PACK. 

3 

24 


Total  Abstinence  for  the  Sake  of  Ourselves 

AND  Others,  39 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite, 


The  Vow  of  the  Rechabites, 


The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger, 


Our  Duty  as  a  Nation, 


Abstinence  from  Evil, 


Address  to  Teachers, 


Experience  of  a  Total  Abstainer, 


.  6s 

.  89 

"3 

.  127 

.  135 

.  149 

•  155 


BETWEEN  THE  LIVING  AND  THE  DEAD. 

By  the  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


Numbers  xvi.  48  :  "And  he  stood  between  the  dead  and  the  living." 

On  previous  Sundays,  my  brethren,  I  have  en- 
deavored, at  the  request  of  the  Society  for  the  Pro- 
motion of  Christian  Evidence,  to  set  before  you 
"  the  universe  as  a  manifestation  of  God's  eternal 
power  and  godhead,"  by  showing  3^ou,  first,  that  its 
beauty  was  a  seal  of  the  handiwork  of  its  Creator  ; 
and  then,  that  neither  in  its  illimitable  vastness,  nor 
in  the  steady  uniformity  of  the  laws  which  govern 
it,  is  there  anything  to  shake,  but  rather  very  much 
to  strengthen  our  faith  in  God.  Such  truths  may 
be  deeply  practical,  if  we  will  make  them  so  ;  if  we 
will  remember  that  this  is  the  God  whose  eye  is 
ever  upon  us ;  that  "  this  God  is  our  God  forevei 
and  ever,  and  shall  be  our  guide  unto  our  death.' 
And  such  truths  have  also  a  deep  bearing  on  the 
subject  of  which  I  am  bidden  to  speak  to-day.  For 
if  there  be  one  thing  which  would  stand  out  clearly 
from  such  a  contemplation  of  the  awfulness  of  God, 
and  yet  the  love  which  could  send  His  own  Son  to 
die  for  us,  it  is  the  guilt  involved  in  a  willful  de- 
pravation of  His  work,  the  dreadful  consequences 


4  Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

which  must  follow— which,  as  a  fact,  arc  daily  fol. 
lowing — from  the  flagrant  violation  of  His  laws. 
Willful  sin,  a  willful  sacrifice  of  duty  to  self-indul 
j-encc  ;  a  willful  choice  of  the  lower  and  baser,  in- 
stead  of  the  higher  and  nobler,  is  disastrous  in  the 
individual;  and  pitiable  indeed  is  the  shipwreck 
which  it  causes  to  the  hope  and  the  happiness  of 
life.  But,  in  the  case  of  a  nation,  still  more  dis- 
astrous is  the  loss,  still  more  overwhelming  the 
shipwreck.  Take  the  history  of  any  nation  under 
the  sun;  watch  its  rise  and  watch  its  ruin,  and  see 
whether,  in  every  instance,  its  ruin  has  not  been  the 
retribution  of  its  guilt.  You  may  not  be  able  to 
see  exactly  why  it  was,  but  you  arc  forced  to  sec 
that  so  it  was;  and  the  secular  historian  will  tell 
you,  as  emphatically  as  the  theologian,  that  to  every 
nation  in  its  turn  sin  has  meant — first,  weakness, 
then  decay,  lastly,  destruction.  What  ruined  Ju- 
dah?  In  its  first  stage.  Idolatry;  in  its  second 
stage,  Pharisaism.  What  sapped  the  strength  of 
Greece?  Sensuality.  What  broke  the  iron  arm 
of  Rome  ?  Again,  Sensuality  joined  with  Slavery. 
What  ruined  Spain?  Avarice.  What  ruined 
Venice?  Pride.  What  ruined  the  Papacy  ?  Am 
bition.  If  ever  England  be  ruined,  what  will  be 
her  ruin  ?  Her  national  sin,  whatever  that  national 
sin  may  be.  And  what  is  the  national  sin  of  En- 
gland ?  Alas!  there  are  many  sins  in  England,  but 
ask  the  unbiased  opinion  of  those  who  know;  ask 
the  unsuspected  testimony  of  the  English  judges; 
ask  the  exceptional  experience  of  the  English 
clergy  ;  ask  the  unguarded  admissions  of  the  En- 
glish press;  and  their  unanimous  answer  would  be. 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  5 

[  think,  as  would  be  the  unanimous  answer  of  every 
thoughtful  man  in  this  vast  assembly — the  national 
sin  of  England  is  drunkenness ;  the  national  curse 
of  England  is  drink. 

2,  My  brethren,  it  has  been  my  duty  more  than 
once  of  late  to  speak  of  intemperance,  and  I  am 
willing  to  bear  the  penalty.     On  this  subject  it  is 
an  imperative  duty  that  the  pulpit  should  not  be 
always  silent ;  but  if  I  am  not  afraid  to  speak  the 
truth,  I  do  earnestly  desire  to  speak  truth  only,  and 
to  speak  that  truth  in  love.     Far  from  the  sanctity 
of  this  place  be  vulgar  exaggeration.     This  Abbey 
is  sacred  to  Truth,  sacred  to  Faith,  sacred  to  Char- 
ity.    Were  I  to  say  from  this  place  one  word  that 
was  unwarrantable,  it  would  seem  to  me  as  though 
the  immortal  spirits  of  the  great  men  whose  memo- 
rials stand  thick  around  us  were  frowning  on  me 
in  disdain.     But  they  would  have  still  more  cause 
to  frown  if  I  glossed  over  the  truth  with  lies.     To 
exaggerate  is  one  thing ;  to  be  charged  with  ex- 
aggeration is  quite  another.     There  are,  alas  !  as- 
pects of  this  matter  which  it  is  impossible  to  exag- 
gerate, and,  though  I  shall   touch   only  on   facts 
admitted  and  undeniable,  the  worst  facts  are  far 
too  bad  to  be  here  spoken  of  at  all.     And  if  there 
be  any  here  who  are  concerned  in  the  maintenance 
of  a  trade  from  which  flow  such  dangerous  conse- 
quences,   while  I    ask   them    to   think  over  their 
responsibility,  and  of  that  strict  and    solemn   ac- 
count which  they   must  one  day  give  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  Christ,  they   may  rest   assured 
that  I   speak  of  a  system,  not  of  individuals,  and 
that,  as  I  never  have,  so  neither  now  will  I,  say  one 


6  Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

word  which  is  meant  to  reflect  painfully  on  thcra 
But,  knowing-  drunkenness  to  be  a  ruinous  vice,  and 
seeing  that  the  results  which  flow  from  it  are  of  the 
darkest  and  most  appalling  character,  I  therefore 
desire  to  arrest— more  and   more  to  arrest— so  far 
as  I  can,  the  attention  of  the  people  of  England  to 
this  crying  and  wide-wasting  evil.     To  the  intem- 
perate I  am  not  speaking,  though   from    my  very 
soul  I  pity  them  ;  nor  to  abstainers,  to  whom  I  can 
say  nothing  new  ;    but   I  do  want  every  English 
man  and  woman  in  this  Abbey,  and  every  English- 
sjicaking  man  and  woman  whom,  in  any  form,  or  by 
any  means,  these  words  can  reach,  to  face  the  stern 
facts  which  I  shall  touch  upon  ;  to  ask  themselves 
how  far  they  mean  to  be  entang-led  in  responsibility 
for  them  ;  and  how  long  they  will,  and  why  they 
will,  look  on  at  such  facts  unmoved.     How  weak, 
alas!  are  poor  human  words;  how  timid  poor  hu- 
man hearts  !     But,  oh  !  if  that  Great  Angel  of  the 
Apocalypse  could  speak,  and  if  his  voice  were  in 
the  thunder's  mouth,  he  could  not  speak  too  loud 
to  warn  England  of  the  sin  and  misery  which  are  in 
the  midst  of  her— to  urge  her  to  shake  out  of  her 
bosom  this  burning  coal  of  fire. 

3.  "  Woe,"  says  Jeremiah,  "  woe  to  the  drunkards 
of  Ephraim,  whose  glorious  beauty  is  a  fading 
flower."  The  allusions  to  drunkenness  in  Script- 
ure and  in  classical  literature  are  not  un frequent. 
Yet  drunkenness  was  not  the  prevalent  sin  of  an- 
cient times;  and  an  ancient  Spartan,  an  ancient 
Roman,  or  an  ancient  Hebrew  would  have  stared 
with  contemptuous  disgust  at  the  sights  which  in 
Christian  England  are  familiar  as  a  jest.     It  was  not 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  y 

that  they  were  less  prone  to  sin,  but  they  were  less 
petted  with  temptation.  Southern  and  Eastern 
nations  have  never  been  so  drunken  as  Northern ; 
and  ancient  nations  were  ignorant  of  that  deadly 
spirit  [derived  from  the  fermentation  of  saccharine 
matters  which,  as  a  distinct  compound,  was  first 
discovered  about  1300]  which  has  wrought  a  havoc 
so  fi^ightful  among  us.  The  simple  wines  of  an- 
tiquity were  incomparably  less  deadly  than  the 
stupefying  and  ardent  beverages  on  which  ;^I50,- 
000,000  are  yearly  spent  in  this  suffering  land. 
The  wines  of  antiquity  were  more  like  syrups ; 
many  of  them  were  not  intoxicant ;  many  more 
intoxicant  in  but  a  small  degree,  and  all  of  them, 
as  a  rule,  only  taken  when  largely  diluted  with 
water.  The  sale  of  these  comparatively  harm- 
less vinous  fluids  did  not  bear  the  remotest  re- 
semblance to  the  drink  trade  among  us,  nor  did 
the  same  ghastly  retinue  of  evils  follow  in  its 
train.  They  contained,  even  when  undiluted, 
but  four  or  five  per  cent,  of  alcohol,  whereas  some 
of  our  common  wines  contain  seventeen  percent., 
and  the  maddening  intoxicants  of  Scotch  and  En- 
glish cities  contain  the  horrible  amount  of  fift}'- 
four  per  cent,  of  alcohol.  Take  but  one  illustra- 
tion of  the  difference  of  ancient  and  modern  days. 
Our  blessed  Lord,  when  He  lived  on  earth,  trav- 
ersed Palestine  from  end  to  end.  He  saw  many 
a  sinner  and  many  a  sufferer ;  He  saw  the  lepers 
and  healed  them  ;  He  saw  weeping  penitent  women, 
and  restored  them  to  honor  and  holiness  again  ; 
there  is  not  the  slightest  trace  that  He  ever  once 
tvitnessed  that  spectacle  of  miserable  degradation, 


8  Betivcen  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

a  drunken  man,  or  that  yet  more  pitiable  spectacle 
of  yet  deadlier  def^radation,  a  drunken  woman.  He 
who  scattered  the  obstinate  formalism  of  the  Phari- 
see ;  He  who  flung'  into  the  sea  with  a  millstone 
round  his  neck  the  corrupter  of  youthful  innocence, 
what  would  He  have  said,  what  would  He  have  felt, 
had  He  heard  the  shrieks  of  women  beaten  by 
drunken  husbands;  had  He  seen  little  children  car 
ried  into  the  hospital  stricken  down  by  their 
drunken  mothers' senseless  or  infuriated  hands?  Ah! 
estimate  these  thins^s  as  He  would  have  estimated 
them,  and  then  will  you  dare  to  sneer  at  those  who 
for  very  shame,  for  very  pity,  for  the  mere  love 
of  their  kind  and  country,  can  not  let  these  things 
be  so? 

4.  And,  alas!  my  brethren,  but  for  these  spirits 
Ens^land  need  not  be  a  drunken  nation  ;  for  the  day 
was  when  she  was  not  a  drunken  nation.  Listen, 
my  brethren,  to  a  paj^e  of  vour  own  history.  In 
the  reign  of  that  great  king,  King  Henry  V.,  who 
enlarged  this  Abbey,  in  his  army  of  heroic  victors, 
the  army  of  Agincourt,  drunkenness  was  deemed 
an  utter  disgrace;  and  King  Henry  was  so  im- 
pressed with  the  curse  of  it  that  he  wanted  to  cut 
down  all  the  vines  in  France.  Not  yet  accus- 
tomed, as  one  has  said,  "  to  pour  oil  of  vitriol  on 
the  roses  of  youth,"  not  yet  accustomed  to  apply 
hot  and  rebellious  liquors  to  the  blood  of  her  chil- 
dren, England  at  that  day  might  have  said  to  one 
or  other  of  her  then  not  numerous  drunkards  : 

I  know  thee  not,  old  man  ;  fall  to  thy  prayers. 
How  ill  white  hairs  become  a  fool  and  jester. 
I  long  have  dreamt  of  such  a  kind  of  man — 


Between  the  Living  and  ike  Dead.  9 

So  surfeit-swell'd,  so  old,  and  so  profane ; 
But,  being  waked,  I  do  despfee  my  dream, 

And  know  the  grave  doth  gape 

For  thee  thrice  wider  than  for  other  men. 

Tlie  great  antiquary,  Camden,  who  lies  buried 
Ihere,  says,  that  in  his  day  drunkenness  was  a  recent 
vice;  and  other  writers  say  that  "  We  brought  the 
foul  vice  of  drunkenness  from  the  wars  in  the 
Netherlands,  as  we  had  brought  back  the  foul  dis- 
ease of  leprosy  from  the  Crusades."  In  the  bad 
reaction  which  followed  the  restoration,  when  the 
people  broke  loose  from  the  stern,  but  noble  bonds 
of  Puritan  restriction  to  plunge  into  abominable 
license,  the  evil  habit  was  enormously  increased, 
and  many  a  great  statesman  and  great  writer  of 
the  subsequent  epoch — a  Pitt,  an  Addison,  a  Bo- 
lingbroke,a  Walpole,  a  Carteret,  a  Pulteney — shat- 
tered his  nerves  and  shortened  his  life  by  drink. 
But  it  was  about  the  year  1724,  as  we  are  told  by 
the  last  historian  of  the  eighteenth  century,  that 
"  gin  drinking  "  began  to  affect  the  masses,  and  it 
spread  with  the  rapidity  and  violence  of  an  epi- 
demic. "  Small,"  he  says,  "  as  is  the  place  which 
this  fact  occupies  in  English  history,  it  was  proba- 
bly— if  we  consider  all  the  consequences  that  have 
flowed  from  it — the  most  momentous  in  that  eight- 
eenth century,"  because  from  that  time  "  the  fatal 
passion  for  drink  was  at  once  and  irrevocably 
planted  in  the  nation."  Yes,  it  was  only  some  153 
years  ago  that  there  began  the  disastrous  era  of 
the  dram-shop  and  the  gin-palace  ;  from  that  epoch 
ardent  spirits  began  to  madden  the  brain,  to  poison 


fO  Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

the  blood,  to  brutalize  the  habits  of  the  lowest 
classes.  Distillation  replaced  the  comparatively 
harmless  wines  of  our  forefathers  by  those  poison 
ous  drauj^htsof  liquid  fire  which  are  at  this  moment 
the  scathing.  bli<;htin^,  and  dei^radin^  curse  of 
myriads — the  fellest  and  the  foulest  temptation  with 
which  our  workini^  classes  have  to  strugi^le.  The 
Jewish  rabbis  have  a  legend  that,  when  the  tirst 
vineyard  was  planted,  Satan  rejoiced,  and  said  to 
Noah  that  he  should  have  his  account  in  the  re- 
sults; and  in  truth  the  winecup,  which  poets  so 
extol,  is  the  cause,  as  Solomon  lias  told  us,  of  woes 
enough;  but  if  ever  the  spirits  of  evil  hailed  a 
potent  ally  with  shouts  of  triumph,  it  must  have 
been  when  that  thing  was  discovered,  which,  re- 
garded as  a  harmless  luxury  by  the  virtuous,  acts 
as  a  subtle  and  soul-destroying  ruin  of  the  un- 
suspecting— that  thing  in  the  use  of  which  "  in- 
temperance, the  great  murderer  of  millions,  doth 
creep  for  shelter  into  houses  of  moderation." 

5.  But  to  return  to  history.  Ardent  spirits  had 
not  long  been  introduced  when  the  Grand  Jury  of 
Middlesex,  in  a  powerful  presentment,  declared 
that  much  the  greatest  part  of  the  poverty,  the 
robberies,  the  murders  of  London  might  be  traced 
to  this  single  cause.  (Painted  boards  informed  the 
poor  that  for  one  pence  they  might  purchase 
drunken  stupefaction,  and  as  though  the  adjuncts 
of  the  sty  were  necessary  to  complete  the  accesso- 
ries of  truly  swinish  degradation,  the  straw  in  the 
cellars  was  gratuitously  supplied).  Even  the  morals 
of  the  eighteenth  century — bad  as  they  were — did 
uot  so  acquiesce  in  this  public  demoralization  as  we 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  II 

with  our  consciences  seared  with  the  hot  iron  of  cus- 
toms, are  content  with  acquiescing.  In  1736  a 
strenuous  attempt  was  made  to  stem  the  rising  tide 
of  shame  and  ruin.  (By  placing  pr,)hibit:ive  duties 
on  all  spirituous  liquors.  In  1743  those  duties  were 
enormously  diminished — partly  on  the  futile  plea 
of  stopping  ilHcit  distillat  <  n,  but  mainly  to  re- 
plenish the  Exchequer  for  the  German  wars  of 
George  II.)  Against  the  Gin  Act,  as  it  was  called, 
Lord  Chesterfield,  the  most  polished  and  brilliant 
peer  of  his  day,  flung  his  whole  influence,  alas,  in 
vain!  When  I  quote  his  words  to  you,  remember 
that  you  are  hstening  to  a  professed  man  of  the 
world,  perfectly  cool-headed,  the  mirror  of  fashion, 
the  idol  of  society,  yet  speaking  simply  as  a  patriot 
from  ordinary  observation  of  the  notorious  effect 
of  what  he  calls  "  the  new  liquor."  Had  he  used 
such  language  nov/,  he  would  have  been  called  an 
intemperate  Pharisee ;  but  he  spoke  to  an  age  not 
yet  hardened  by  familiarity  with  the  horrors  of 
dram-drinking.  "  Vice,  ray  lords,"  he  said,  *'  is  not 
properly  to  be  taxed,  but  to  be  suppressed  ;  and 
heavy  taxes  are  sometimes  the  only  means  by 
which  that  suppression  can  be  attained.  Luxury, 
my  lords,  may  very  properly  be  taxed.  But  the 
use  of  these  things  which  are  simply  hurtful — hurt- 
ful in  their  own  nature,  and  in  every  degree — is  to 
be  prohibited.  If  their  liquors  are  so  delicious 
that  the  people  are  tempted  to  their  own  destruc- 
tion, let  us  at  length,  my  lords,  secure  them  from 
these  fatal  draughts  by  bursting  the  vials  that  con- 
tain them.  Let  us  check  these  artists  in  human 
slaughter,    which    have   reconciled   their  country- 


12  Between  the  Living  ami  the  Dead. 

men  to  sickness  and  to  ruin,  and  spread  over  the 
pitfalls  of  debauchery  such  baits  as  can  not  be  re- 
sisted. When  I  consider,  my  lords,  the  tendency 
of  this  bill,  I  find  it  calculated  only  for  the  propa- 
gation  of  disease,  the  suppression  of  industry,  and 
the  destruction  of  mankind.  For  the  purpose,  my 
lords,  what  could  have  been  invented  more  effica- 
cious than  shops  at  which  poison  may  be  vended 
poison  so  prepared  as  to  please  the  palate,  while  it 
wastes  the  strength  a.nd  kills  only  bv  intoxica- 
tion ?  "  So  spoke,  so  thought  Lord  Chesterfield, 
about  the  ardent  spirits  which  are  now  sold  on 
every  day  in  the  week  at  140  licensed  houses  with- 
in a  small  radius  of  the  Abbey,  into  most  of  which 
hundreds  of  men,  of  women,  and  of  children  will 
enter  this  very  day.  And  he  did  not  stand  alone. 
If  you  would  know  what  your  fathers  thought  of 
these  things,  look  at  Hogarth's  ghastliest  pictures 
of  Rum-lane  and  Gin-alley.  If  you  doubt  Art, 
take  the  testimony  of  Science.  In  1750  the  Lon- 
don physicians  drew  up  a  memorial  to  the  effect 
that  there  were  then  14,000  cases  of  fatal  illness  at- 
tributable to  gin  alone;  and  Benson,  Bishop  of 
Gloucester,  wrote:  "Our  people  have  become 
what  they  never  were  before,  cruel  and  inhuman. 
These  accursed  liquors,  which,  to  the  shame  of  our 
Government,  are  so  easily  to  be  had,  have  changed 
their  very  nature  ;"  and  about  the  same  time  the 
entire  bench  of  bishops  protested  against  the  Gin 
Act,  as  founded  on  the  indulgence  of  debauchery, 
the  encouragement  of  crime,  and  the  destruction 
of  the  human  race. 
6.  It  was  amid  these  protests  of  men  and  these 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  13 

warnings  of  God,  that  in  England  the  shameful  and 
miserable  tale  began.  ■^'You  know,  or  you  may 
jcnow,  and  you  ought  to  know  how  it  has  gone  on. 
The  extent,  indeed,  of  the  calamity  you  do  not  and 
can  not  know.  That  can  be  fully  known  to  Him 
only  who  hears,  and  not  in  vain,  the  sighs  and 
moans  that  lade  the  air  with  their  quivering  misery  ; 
to  Him  alone  who  can  estimate  the  area  of  wreck 
and  ruin,  of  human  agony,  and  human  degrada- 
tion, which  is  represented  by  the  fact  that  this 
country  spends  ^150,000,000  a  year  on  drink,  and 
that  in  this  country  there  are,  amongst  the  many 
who  drink,  600,000  drunkards.  No,  you  can  not 
estimate  it ;  you  have  not  even  one  fraction  of  such 
knowledge  about  it  as  we  have  who  have  seen  it  ; 
but  need  you  ignore  it  ?  Can  you  live  in  the  very 
midst  of  facts  so  ugly  and  yet  not  lift  a  finger  to 
make  them  better?  Read  for  yourselves.  Judge 
for  yourselves.  Refute  these  facts  if  you  can  ; 
would  to  God  that  you  could,  but,  alas!  you  can 
not.  Convince  yourselves  first  that  alcohol,  how- 
ever much  you  may  like  it,  is  needless,  seeing  that 
the  lives  of  four  million  total  abstainers  who  never 
touch  it  are  better  in  any  insurance  office  than 
those  of  other  men  ;  and  that  among  our  20,000 
prisoners — most  of  them  brought  there  by  it — 
there  is,  because  they  are  not  allowed  to  touch  it, 
a  better  average  healthiness  than  among  any  other 
class.  Convince  yourselves,  then,  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely needless,  and  then  judge  yourselves  of  its 
effects.  Do  not  take  our  testimony,  but  inquire. 
Go  and  catch  with  your  own  eyes  a  glimpse  here 
and  there  of  the  black  waves  of  this  subterranean 


14  Betzvtcn  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

stream.  Health  is  the  most  priceless  boon  of  life. 
Go  to  our  London  hospitals,  and  ask  how  many  are 
brought  there  by  the  awful  diseases,  the  appalling 
accidents,  the  brutal  violence  of  drink.     Pauperism 

15  the  curse  of  cities.  Ask  Poor-Law  guardians 
how  paupers  are  made  ;  ask  any  economist  worth 
the  name  how  pauperism  can  possibly  be  avoided 
when  so  much  idleness  is  due  to  the  ^^"37,000,000— 
as  much  as  all  their  rent — which,  by  the  vcrv  low- 
est estimate,  our  poorest  classes  waste  in  drink.  Lu- 
nacy is  one  of  the  worst  inflictions  cf  humanity  ;  ask 
at  any  public  asylum  the  percentage  of  it  due  to 
drink.  Idiocy  is  one  of  the  saddest  phenomena  of 
life.  Ask  any  doctor  how  many  idiots  are  born  of 
drunken  parents.  Visit  our  camps  and  barracks, 
and  there  is  not  an  officer  who  will  not  tell  you 
that  drink  is  the  deadliest  curse  of  our  army.  Visit 
our  ships  and  sea-ports,  and  there  is  not  a  captain 
who  will  not  tell  you  that  drink  is  the  worst  ruin 
of  our  sailors.  Go  to  an}'  parish,  or  town,  or  coun- 
try all  over  the  United  Kingdom,  where  there  are 
many  public  houses  and  many  poor,  any  clergy- 
man will  tell  you  that  drink  is  the  most  overwhelm- 
ing curse  of  our  working  classes.  Philanthropists 
sigh  for  the  dirt,  the  squalor,  the  misery  of  our 
lowest  classes.  How  can  it  be  remedied  so  long 
as  there  is  the  maximum  of  temptation,  where 
there  is  the  minimum  of  wages  to  waste  and  the 
minimum  of  power  to  resist?  Here,  almost  under 
the  very  shadows  of  the  great  towers  of  our 
Houses  of  Legislature,  and  within  bowshot  of  this 
great  Abbey,  are  streets  in  which  house  after  house, 
family  after  family,  is  ruined  or  rendered  miserable 


Betivcen  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  15 

by  this  one  cause ;  and,  oh !  how  long  will  our 
Legislature  still  refuse  to  interfere  ?  Oh  that  we 
could  show  them  the  misery  of  the  innocent,  the 
Imbruting  of  the  guilty;  women  broken-hearted, 
children  degraded,  men  lowered  beneath  the  level 
of  the  beasts ;  holidays  changed  into  a  bane,  high 
wages  wasted  into  a  curse,  the  day  of  God  turned 
intb  a  day  of  Satan,  our  jails  filled,  our  criminal 
classes  recruited,  our  work-houses  rendered  in- 
evitable. This  it  was  which  made  the  late  Mr.  C. 
Buxton  say  that  the  struggle  of  the  school,  the 
library,  and  the  Church  were  united,  and  united 
in  vain,  against  the  beer-shop  and  the  gin-palace, 
and  that  this  struggle  was  "  one  development  of 
the  war  between  heaven  and  hell."  Have  we  not 
a  right  to  expect,  have  we  not  a  right  to  demand, 
that  in  this  struggle  the  Legislature  should  take 
their  part  ? 

7.  Look  at  the  statue  of  that  glorious  statesman, 
who  there  "  with  eagle  face  and  outstretched  hand, 
still  seems  to  bid  England  be  of  good  cheer,  and 
hurl  defiance  at  her  foes."  Speaking  of  the  pro- 
posal to  use  Indians  against  our  American  colonists 
he  burst  into  that  memorable  storm  of  words,  which 
you  all  have  read :  "  I  call  upon  that  Right  Rev 
erend  Bench.  I  conjure  them  to  join  in  the  holy 
work  and  vindicate  the  religion  of  their  God.  1 
call  upon  the  bishops,"  he  said,  "  to  interpose  the 
unsullied  sanctity  of  their  lawn  ;  upon  the  learned 
judges  to  interpose  the  purity  of  ermine  to  save  us 
from  this  pollution.  I  call  upon  your  lordships  to 
stamp  upon  it  an  indelible  stigma  of  the  public  ab- 
horrence.    And  I  again  implore  those  holy  prelates 


1 6  Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

of  our  rclie^ion  to  do  away  these  iniquities  from 
nmonf^  us.  Let  them  perform  a  lustration.  Let 
fhem  purify  tliis  house  and  this  country  from  this 
sin."  In  his  burnins^  wrath  of  moral  indignation, 
so  stormed,  so  thundered  the  mighty  Earl  of  Chat- 
ham, when  it  was  proposed  to  let  loose  on  our  re- 
volted colonists  "  the  hellhounds  of  savage  war." 
But  against  this  hellhound  of  savage  intoxication 
the  bishops  did  then  and  the  judges  do  now  their 
very  best  to  interpose.  They,  at  least,  can  esti- 
mate, if  any  can,  the  connection  of  drink  and  crime. 
Have  they  failed  to  estimate  it  ?  There  is  scarcely 
a  judge  on  the  bench  who  has  not  spoken  of  it,  till 
it  has  become  a  commonplace  of  the  Courts  of  Jus- 
tice. "  It  is  not  from  men  that  are  drunk,"  said 
one  judge  ;  "  but  from  men  that  have  been  drink- 
ing, that  most  of  the  crime  proceeds."  "  The  worst 
is,"  said  another,  "  that  men  enter  the  public-house 
sober,  and  leave  it  felons."  But  for  drink,  others 
have  said  again  and  again,  "  not  one  of  these  cases 
would  have  been  brought  before  me."  "  Do  away 
with  drink,"  say  others,  "and  we  may  shut  up  two- 
thirds  of  our  prisons."  So  they  have  said — well- 
nigh  every  one  of  them — and  still  the  maddening 
wave  of  alcohol  flows  on,  and  sweeps  legislators 
into  Parliament  upon  its  crest.  And  are  these 
judges  fanatics?  are  they  Pharisees?  Or  is  it  that 
they  are  forced  to  see  what  every  one  of  us  migh« 
see  if  we  chose — a  fearful  and  intolerable  fact  / 
The  New  Year  dawned  upon  us  five  m(Tnths  ago 
with  all  its  cheerful  prophecies  and  jubilant  hopes, 
and  when  it  began  I  thought  I  would  make  a  rec- 
ord of  a  few  out  of  the  thousands  of  awful  cr'raes 


Between  the  giving  and  the  Dead.  17 

with  which  drink  would  blight  and  desecrate  its 
history.  Very  soon  I  paused,  sickened,  horror- 
stricken.  The  crimes  were  too  awful,  too  inhuman, 
sometimes  too  grotesque  in  their  pitiable  horror. 
Other  crimes  are  human  crimes,  but  the  crimes 
done  in  drink  are  as  the  crimes  of  demoniacs,  the 
crimes  of  men  who  for  the  time  have  ceased  to  be 
men,  and  have  become  fiends.  Oh !  that  these 
walls  should  hear  them.  Oh  !  that  the  angel  of  the 
nation  might  blot  them  out  of  his  record  with  such 
tears  as  angels  weep,  to  think  that  Christ  daily  re- 
crucified  in  the  midst  of  us  should  from  His  throne 

in  heaven — 

See  only  this, 
After  the  passion  of  a  thousand  years. 

I  have  some  of  them  written  here,  but  they  are  too 
black  to  tell  you.  Now  it  was  a  boy  stabbing  his 
father  in  a  cellar  in  Liverpool ;  now  a  wife  killing 
her  husband  with  one  savage  blow  ;  now  a  woman's 
suicide  ;  now  a  little  infant  overlaid  ;  now  a  drunken 
carman  driving  over  a  child,  a  woman,  and  a  boy ; 
now  a  man — I  dare  not  go  on.  I  dare  not  describe 
the  least  bad,  much  less  tell  the  worst.  These 
things — these  daily  incidents  of  the  year  of  grace 
1878 — Christian  men  and  Christian  women,  are 
they  unfit  for  your  fastidious  ears  ?  Ah  !  but  things 
are  as  they  are,  and  it  is  not  your  fastidiousness 
that  can  undo  them.  And  is  it  not  an  hypocrisy 
to  shrink  with  delicate  sensibility  from  hearing  of 
crimes  which  are  going  on  about  you  from  day  to 
day,  and  from  week  to  week,  and  from  year  to  year, 
while  you  do  not  shrink  from  the  fact  that  they 
should  be  done,  from  the  fact  that  they  should  be 


l8  Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead. 

borne,  by  Rnt^lishmcn  like  yourselves  ;  done  anH 
borne  by  EnfjHsh  women  who  mij^ht  once  have 
worn  the  rose  of  womanhood  ;  done  and  borne  by 
boys  and  cjirls  who  were  once  little  brij^ht-eyed 
children  in  our  schools,  and  who  but  for  drink 
mio^ht  have  o^rown  up  as  happy  and  as  sweet  as 
yours.  And  if  you  are  ashamed  that  these  things 
should  be,  why  do  many  of  you  not  lift  one  finp^er 
to  prevent  this  minified  stream  of  crime  and  pau- 
perism from  pourin<;  its  delui^c  through  our  streets? 
For  where  are  these  things  being  done  ?  In  savage 
islands?  Among  Pacific  cannibals?  among  ancient 
pagans,  such  as  St.  Paul  describes?  No,  I  declare 
to  you  that  I  find  no  records  of  such  chronic  hor- 
rors among  them  as  I  find,  normally,  daily,  as  inci- 
dents of  ordinary  life,  as  items  of  common  news, 
happening  now  ;  happening  to-day;  happening  in 
the  midst  of  the  nineteenth  century  after  Christ ; 
happening  in  Christian  England ;  happening  in 
Liverpool,  in  Dublin,  in  Glasgow,  in  Manchester; 
happening  here  under  your  minster  towers.  Here, 
even  in  these  streets  hard  by— oh,  what  a  tale  T 
could  tell — the  husband  imprisoned  for  assault 
ing  his  wife  ;  the  son  in  jail  for  striking  his  aged 
miserable  mother  ;  the  father  deserting  his  family 
of  little  children;  the  son  dishonoring  his  home; 
the  man  once  rich  now  ruined ;  the  woman  barely 
snatched  from  agonizing  suicide.  And,  Christian 
men  and  Christian  women,  you  wonder  that  our 
hearts  are  stirred  within  us  when  we  see  whole 
classes  of  a  city — whole  classes  which  should  have 
been  its  marrow  and  its  strength — thus  given  to 
drink  !    When  will  this  indifference  cease  ?     When 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  19 

will  a  nation,  half  ruined  by  her  vice,  demand  what 
the  Legislature  will  not  then  withhold  ?  Sooner  or 
later  it  must  be  so,  or  England  must  perish.  Weigh 
the  gain  and  loss — strike  the  balance.  On  the  one 
scale  place  whole  tons  of  intoxicating  and  adulter- 
ated  liquor — put  alcohol,  at  the  very  best  a  needless 
luxury;  on  the  other  side  put  i^i 50,000,000  a  year, 
and  grain  enough  to  feed  a  nation,  and  grapes  that 
might  have  been  the  innocent  delight  of  millions ; 
and  load  the  scale — for  you  must,  if  you  would  be 
fair — load  it  with  disease,  and  pauperism,  and  mur- 
der, and  madness,  and  horrors  such  as  no  heart  can 
conceive  and  no  tongue  tell ;  and  wet  it  with  rivers 
of  widows'  and  orphans'  tears  ;  and  if  you  will  not 
strike  the  balance,  God  will  one  day  strike  it  for 
you.  But  will  you,  as  Christian  men  and  Christian 
women — will  you,  as  lovers  of  your  country  and 
lovers  of  your  kind — stand  up  before  high  God,  and 
say  that  the  one  is  worth  the  other?  Will  you  lay 
your  hand  upon  your  heart,  and  say  that  these 
things  ought  so  to  be  ? 

8.  I  stop  at  England.  The  half,  alas  !  is  not  told 
you  !  The  awful  guilt  remains  that  throughout  all 
our  colonies  and  dependencies,  we,  the  proud  race 
whose  flag  dominates  the  seas,  and  on  whose  em- 
pire the  sun  never  sets — we  "  wherever  winds  blow 
and  waters  roll,  have  girdled,  are  girdling,  the 
world  with  a  zone  of  drunkenness;"  until,  as  I 
think  of  ii — as  I  think  of  the  curses,  not  loud,  but 
deep,  muttered  against  our  name  by  races  which 
our  fire-water  has  decimated,  and  our  vice  de- 
graded ;  I  seem  to  shudder,  as  there  sounds  in  my 
ear   the   stern    inquiry   to    our    country,    "  These 


20  Bit'wecn  tlu-  Living  and  the  Dead. 

things  hast  thou  done,  and  I  held  my  peace ;  and 
thou  thouj^htcst  wickedly  that  I  was  such  an  one 
as  th^'self;  but  1  will  reprove  thee,  and  set  before 
thee  the  things  that  thou  hast  done;"  and  the 
menace  of  prophetic  doom  "Shall  I  not  visit  for 
these  things,  saith  the  Lord?  and  shall  not  mv 
soul  be  avenged  on  such  a  na'jon  as  this?" 

9.  But,  oh  !  will  not  some  one  interfere  before  it  is 
too  late?  Once  in  the  camp  of  Israel  there  arose 
a  wail  of  horror  and  of  agony  :  "There  is  wrath 
gone  out  from  the  Lord;  the  plague  is  begun;" 
and,  quick  as  thought,  the  High-Priest,  Aaron, 
took  a  censer,  and  put  fire  thereon  from  off  the 
altar,  and  ran  into  the  midst  of  the  congregation, 
and  put  on  incense,  and  stood  between  the  living 
and  the  dead,  and  the  plague  was  staved.  Will  no 
one  do  it  now  ?  We  are  encircled  by  the  immortal 
memorials  of  tlr)se  who  fought  the  slave-trade, 
and  shattered  the  biblical  and  other  sophisms 
of  its  defenders.  In  yonder  aisle  are  the  statues 
of  Wilberforce  an  I  Raffles,  and  bv  the  western 
door  the  liberated  slave  kneels,  in  immortal  mar 
ble,  by  the  deathbed  of  Fox,  whose  errors  are  for- 
gotten, whose  genius  is  ennobled  by  the  champion- 
ship of  that  great  cause  : 

Oh,  God,  for  a  man  with  head,  heart,  hand. 
Like  some  of  the  simple  great  ones  gone 

For  ever  and  ever  by, 
Some  still  strong  man  in  a  blatant  land  ! 

Whatever  they  call  him,  what  care  I  ? 

Oh,  for  some  man    again  with  the  eloquence  ol 
these,  and  the  same  burning  e  .thusiasm  to  redress 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  21 

the  intolerable  wrongs,  to  alleviate  the  needless 
miseries  of  man  !  Before  the  clear  intellect,  before 
the  fiery  zeal  of  such  an  one,  the  flimsy  sophisms 
of  a  pseudo-liberty,  and  the  perverted  pleas  of  a 
feeble  literalism,  would  melt  like  tow  at  the  breath 
of  flame.  Were  it  not  better  thus  than  to  plunge 
into  the  heat  of  part^/  squabbles,  and  win  the  evan- 
escent triumphs  of  an  hour?  Will  no  one  save  a 
nation  from  multiplying,  from  legalizing  for  itself 
a  needless,  an  artificial,  a  self-created  destruction? 
Oh,  what  a  crown  would  such  a  man  deserve!  He 
would  deserve  a  grander  monument  than  Welling- 
ton, a  prouder  statue  than  Chatham's  self.  The 
name,  the  memory  of  such  a  man  should  live  when 
the  names  of  many  that  are  recorded  here,  and  ot 
most  of  the  living  statesmen  who  shall  follow  them, 
are  covered  with  oblivion's  dust.  God  grant  us 
such  an  one  to  stand  between  the  living  and  the 
dead,  for  the  plague  has  indeed  begun.  They  have 
been  dying  of  it  for  two  centuries;  they  are  dying 
now,  dying  of  disease,  dying  by  violence,  dying  by 
suicide,  dying  in  hospitals,  dying  in  squalid  garrets 
everywhere ;  strong  men,  miserable  women,  little 
children  dying  so  slowly  that  none  call  it  murder. 
But  if  the  drinkers  can  not  save  themselves  ;  if  with 
their  money  they  drink  away  their  manliness,  and 
with  their  sense  of  shame  their  power  of  will ; 
shall  not  the  nation  save  them — save  them  from 
themselves — save  them  from  destroying  tempta- 
tion— save  their  wretched  children,  their  wretcb.ed 
wives?  The  Legislature  will  not  help  us,  because, 
they  tell  us,  as  yet  public  opinion  is  not  strong 
enough.     Then  in  God's  name  let  public  opi  .ion 


22  BetxL'cen  the  IJving  and  the  Dead. 

become  strons^  enough.  Let  the  working  classes 
who  are  mostly  aflected,  take  up  this  question, 
Let  them  snatch  their  order  from  this  ruin.  Let 
them  cleanse  it  from  this  stain.  What  the  Senate 
refuses  now,  it  can  not,  it  will  not,  it  dare  not  re- 
fuse when  a  nation,  knocking  at  its  door  with  right- 
eous and  imperious  demand,  tells  them  that  they 
are  there  to  do  its  bidding.  But  as  for  us  who  are 
not  senators,  whose  power  is  small,  let  us  at  least 
help  to  form  this  public  opinion.  Let  us  change 
this  national  sin  of  drunkenness  into  the  national 
glory  of  self-control ;  let  us  become  the  Nazarites, 
as  we  have  been  the  helots  of  the  world.  To  hope 
for  this  has  been  called  extravagant;  nevertheless 
I  do  hope  it.  If  there  are  in  England  600,000 
drunkards,  there  are  also  in  England,  thank  God, 
four  million  abstainers;  and  if  without  an  iota  ol 
loss,  and  with  an  immensity  of  gain — if  with 
stronger  health,  and  clearer  intellect,  and  unwasted 
means,  to  the  great  happiness  of  themselves,  to  the 
clear  example  to  others,  there  arc  four  millions  of 
every  rank,  and  every  position,  and  every  degree 
of  intellectual  power,  I,  for  one — believing  noble 
things  of  man  as  I  believe  noble  things  of  God — 
I,  for  one,  do  not  see  why  there  should  not  be  many 
millions.  But  if  we  can  not  and  will  not  save  our- 
selves, let  us  save  our  children.  If  the  wealth  and 
peace  of  this  generation  are  to  be  a  holocaust  to 
drink,  let  the  next  be  an  offering  to  God.  Let  us 
do  what  Wellington  said  at  Waterloo;  let  us  have 
young  soldiers.  Let  every  young  man  in  his 
strength,  every  maiden  in  her  innocence  and  beauty, 
join  the  ranks  of  the  absf^iners.     Let  the  manliness 


Between  the  Living  and  the  Dead.  23 

of  the  nation  spring  to  its  own  defense,  so  that  by 
a  sense  of  shame  and  a  love  of  virtue,  if  this  evil 
can  not  be  suppressed  by  law,  it  may  perish  of  in- 
anition. If  so,  I  see  no  end  to  the  greatness  ol 
England,  no  limit  to  the  prolongation  of  her  power. 
If  not,  in  all  history,  as  in  all  individual  experience, 
I  see  but  this  one  lesson — no  nation,  no  individual, 
can  thrive  so  long  as  it  be  under  the  dominion  of  a 
besetting  sin.  It  must  conquer  or  be  conquered. 
It  must  destroy  it  or  be  destroyed  by  it.  It  must 
strike  at  the  sources  of  it,  or  be  stricken  down  by 
it  into  the  dust. 


llEASOiNS  FOR  BEING  AN  ABSTAINER. 

By  the  Rev.  Canon  Farrar  D.D    F.R.S. 


Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen: — With  that 
careful  consideration  and  eager  love  of  truth  which 
characterizes  a  large  portion  of  our  provincial  and 
suburban  press,  I  dare  say  many  of  you  may  have 
noticed  not  very  long  ago  a  paragraph  which  went 
the  round  of  I  know  not  how  many  scores  of  pa- 
pers, and  stated  that,  while  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
preaching  total  abstinence  to  others,  I  was  also  in 
the  habit  of  drinking  wine  myself,  and  that  even 
my  temperance  friends  in  London  were  beginning 
to  complain  of  my  intemperate  Pharisaism.  Every 
morning,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  in  the  midst  of  very 
trying  \vork  and  very  heavy  anxieties,  I  received 
numbers  of  letters  enclosing  to  me  that  paragraph 
in  every  sort  of  type  and  from  every  kind  of  paper 
all  over  the  United  Kingdom,  and  frequently  ac- 
companied by  agitated  letters  asking  my  permis- 
sion to  deny  it.  Well,  that  paragraph  caused  me 
no  surprise,  and  not  much   annoyance.     It  caused 

(14) 


Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer.  25 

me  no  surprise,  because,  unhappily,  I  know  that  in 
this  city,  and  perhaps  every  day,  when  there  is  the 
slightest  scent  of  scandal  in  the  air,  the  atmosphere 
is  at  once  darkened  with  the  gathering  winds  of  I 
know  not  how  many  slanders,  and  it  caused  me 
very  little  annoyance,  because  I  have  ver\^  little 
belief  in  the  vitality  of  falsehood.  There  is  a  well- 
known  proverb,  which  is  very  greatly  quoted  by 
the  best  controversialists,  which  says :  "  If  only  you 
throw  mud,  some  of  it  is  sure  to  stick."  Well,  it 
may  stick,  but  there  is  one  thing  it  can  not  do,  and 
that  is,  it  can  not  stain.  It  is,  however,  for  no  pur- 
pose or  poor  personal  defense  that  I  allude  to  these 
miserable  calumnies;  but  perhaps  I  may  profitably 
occupy  a  moment  or  two  if  I  tell  you  how  it  was 
that  my  attention  was  first  called  to  the  cause  of 
temperance,  and  when  I  joined  the  Total  Abstinence 
Section  of  the  Church  of  England  Temperance  So- 
ciety. During  many  years  of  my  life  I  never  once 
had  my  attention  called  to  it.  When  a  youth  I 
was  mainly  a  water-drinker.  When  I  was  an  un- 
dergraduate, although  I  had  heard  little  or  nothing 
of  the  temperance  movement,  I  never  had  once  a 
bottle  of  wine  or  spirits  of  any  kind  in  my  rooms.. 
When  I  became  a  man,  my  thoughts  and  energies 
were  greatly  turned  in  other  directions,  and  if  I 
thought  of  total  abstinence  at  all  (wnich  I  scarcel}; 
ever  did),  I  regarded  it  as  a  somewhat  harmless, 
but  perfectly  amiable  eccentricity.  It  was  only 
two  years  ago  that  my  attention  was  first  seriously 
called  to  the  enormous  evil  of  drink,  and  to  the  im- 
mense misery  it  is  causing  not  only  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  this  land,  but  almost  even 


26  Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer. 

the  entire  world.  And  when  I  came  to  London, 
from  tlif^  first  moment  when  my  attention  was 
called  to  it,  I  almost  entirely  ceased  to  touch  any 
fermented  liquor;  and  seeing  what  I  did  see — for 
I  suppose  none  but  a  London  clergyman  in  such  a 
parish  as  mine  really  knows  the  extent  of  the  e\il — 
I  saw  it  would  become  inevitable  for  me  very  soon 
to  sign  the  j^ledge.  But  I  did  not  wish  to  act  has- 
tdy  in  the  matter,  or  to  plunge  into  it  in  a  sudden 
fit  of  enthusiasm.  There  were  certain  facts  about 
which  I  wished  to  speak  from  my  own  knowledge, 
and  certain  truths  which  I  wished  to  resolve  from 
my  own  experience,  and  therefore,  though  I  con- 
tinued to  drink  water,  I  did  not  always  refuse  wine, 
for  reasons  which  were  well  known  to  my  friends, 
until  about  a  year  and  a  quarterage,  when  I  signed 
the  pledge  at  the  offices  of  the  Church  of  England 
Temperance  Society,  and  I  think  I  need  hardly 
stay  to  assure  this  meeting  that  since  then  I  have 
touched  no  sort  of  fermented  liquor  except  at  Holy 
Communion,  and  that  I  hope  never  to  do  so  again, 
with  that  exception,  until  my  death  comes.  Then, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  as  to  this  intemperate  Phari- 
saism, I  will  say  only  this,  that  in  speaking  of  tem- 
perance, which  I  would  rather  not  do,  and  which  I 
have  not  done  very  frequently,  but  which  is  a  duty 
almost  incumbent  upon  one,  I  have  made  two  rules, 
of  which  the  first  is  never  consciously  to  wound  a 
single  legitimate  susceptibility,  and  the  second,  al- 
ways to  speak  as  if  30U  were  not  addressing  an  au- 
dience of  temperance  reformers,  but  of  licensed 
victuallers.  I  know  not  how  far  it  may  be  true 
that  I   have  disgusted  my  temperance  friends  by 


Reasons  for  Being  an  .Abstai)ier.  2 J 

my  "intemperate  Pharisaism,"  but  I  have  at  least 
this  comfort,  that  having  been  brought  by  strong 
pressure  to  pay  a  visit  to  Scotland,  and  to  speak  at 
several  meetings;  after  the  third  of  those  meetings 
a  very  distinguished  Scotch  clergyman,  who  had 
been  present  at  them  all,  said  to  me,  "  I  observe 
this  in  your  speeches,  that  you  are  exceedingly 
careful  and  guarded  in  your  statements,  and  never 
say  anything  against  which  any  real  exception 
could  be  taken  by  those  acquainted  with  the  sub- 
ject." Well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  shall  not 
speok  to  you  to-day  about  any  of  those  horrors  of 
drinking  and  drunkenness  which  forced  me,  as  they 
had  forced  so  many,  to  become  total  abstainers,  and 
if  I  spoke  for  a  few  moments  I  think  I  had  better 
tell  you  a  few  plain  reasons  why,  having  thought 
it  a  duty  to  become  a  total  abstainer,  it  was  to  me 
a  duty  to  become  so.  It  never  for  a  single  mom.ent 
occurred  to  me  to  condemn  any  one  else,  even  in 
the  smallest  degree,  for  not  taking  the  same  step. 
To  do  that  would  be  the  very  sin  of  all  others,  I 
do  think  I  detest  most  from  my  heart,  viz.,  the  sm  of 
Pharisaism.  Nor  has  it  ever  for  a  moment  occurred 
to  me  to  think  that  1  was  performing  the  smallest 
act  of  virtue  in  having  taken  the  pledge  myself. 
That  would  have  been  a  vice  which  I  hope  I  detest 
as  much  as  Pharisaism,  viz.,  the  vice  of  vanity.  It 
is  always  a  merit  to  make  an  act  of  self-sacrifice, 
but  to  me  this  was  no  self-sacrifice  at  all.  What  was 
the  loss?  Simply  nothing.  I  was  not  giving  up 
an  element  of  food — because  I  have  found,  since  I 
became  an  abstainer,  that  I  also  take  very  much 
less  food,  and  that  meat  once  a  day  is  amply  suffi- 


28  Reasons  J  or  Being  an  Abstainer. 

cient.  I  was  not  giving  np  any  source  of  strength, 
for  I  found  my  endurance  was  very  much  .greater 
*han  before.  I  was  not  a  whit  less  inclined  to  be 
happy  and  mirthful  than  those  about  me,  and  I 
have  always  felt  a  certain  amount  of  contempt  lor 
the  poor  kind  f)f  cheerfulness  which  requires  a 
chemical  ingredient  for  its  sustentation.  Neither 
was  I  giving  uj)  a  cause  of  happiness,  for  since  I 
have  taken  the  pledge,  1  have  been  at  least  as  hap- 
py and  healthy  as  before.  I  thought  that  by  doing 
this  I  had  lost  nothing.  Had  one  gained  anything? 
I  think  one  had.  In  the  first  place,  one  had  gained 
something  in  an  age  like  this,  by  a  contribution, 
however  »m;dl,  to  simplicity  of  life.  That  is  a  point 
on  which  I  am  not  going  to  dwell,  although  I 
think  it  an  important  one;  but,  secondly,  I  found 
that  by  becoming  a  total  abstainer,  all  my  children 
gladly  became  abstainers,  my  wife  and  also  a  large 
number  of  my  servants,  so  that  from  one  very  se- 
rious source  of  anxiety  all  over  the  country,  and 
not  least  in  London,  my  household  was  absolutely 
free.  Of  all  the  sins  there  are  in  the  world,  drunk- 
enness is  perhaps  the  least  curable  when  the  habit 
is  once  firmly  formed,  but  the  one  most  easily  pre- 
ventable before  the  habit  is.  And  when  I  consider 
how  many  young  men  there  are  in  this  day,  peers* 
sons,  members  of  Parliament,  and  even  sons  of  cler- 
gymen, who  have  brought  desolation  and  sorrow 
unspeakable  into  the  houses  of  those  whom  they 
love  by  this  sin,  I  at  least  am  glad  to  have  carried 
out  for  my  own  sons  the  rule  laid  down  by  Plato, 
that  it  was  not  good  to  let  boys  taste  wine  till 
eighteen    yecrs   old.     And    I    felt   that   1    and   my 


Reasons  far  Being  an  Abstainer.  29 

household,  by  this  simple  remedy,  were  freed 
from  one  serious  source  of  anxiety.  Tliere  is  a 
greater  gain  still,  viz.,  that  we  are  doing  something, 
however  little,  to  rid  the  country  of  a  great  evil. 
The  early  Christians  in  their  day  did  much,  as  we 
all  know.  They  sheltered  womanhood  from  im. 
moral  degradation,  childhood  from  immoral  treat- 
ment ;  they  put  down  the  bloody  games  of  the  am- 
phitheatre ;  they  uplifted  the  whole  race  in  that 
single  direction;  they  did  good  as  their  Master 
had  done  before  them,  and  our  own  forefathers 
were  not  unworthy  also.  They  pitied  the  slave 
and  broke  his  fetters ;  they  pitied  the  prisoner  and 
made  the  dungeon  more  tolerable  for  him  ;  they 
pitied  the  poor  factory  child  and  shortened  his 
grinding  hours  of  labor ;  they  pitied  the  poor  climb- 
ing boys,  and  threw  a  shield  of  the  law  over  those 
wretched  little  outcasts;  and  even  we,  in  our  own 
day  and  generation,  have  also  done  something. 
We  have  tried  to  do  something  to  enforce  sanitary 
law,  to  bring  about  a  less  painfully  brutal  (T  had 
almost  said)  penal  code;  we  have  rendered  it  im- 
possible that  any  one  should  starve,  and  made 
special  efforts  to  carry  education  home  to  the  very 
lowest  slums  of  the  city ;  but  there  is  one  work 
which  still  remains,  which,  if  we  are  to  do  effectu- 
ally, must  be  done  by  Christians,  and  that  is  the 
work  of  this  Society,  of  liberating  the  country  from 
the  tremendous  tyranny  of  a  dead  thing,  a  thing 
which  is  not  in  the  least  degree,  as  all  total  abstain- 
ers believe,  a  necessity,  and  a  thing  of  which  one 
scruple  does  not  exist  in  the  whole  of  nature.  I 
know  our  attempt  to  resist  the  evil  has  been  called 


30  Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer. 

Quixotic,  and  that  wc  have  been  charged  with  n 
want  of  judgment.  Be  it  so;  like  Mr.  Grier,  1  am 
not  in  the  least  degree  afraid  to  be  called  Qui.xotic. 
I  have  enough  experience  of  hfe,  and  have  read 
enough  of  history  to  know  that  there  has  hardly 
•^ver  been  any  single  man  who  has  been  in  the  least 
degree  more  in  earnest  than  his  fellows,  who  has 
not  been  called  Quixotic.  In  these  days  of  a  some- 
what arm-chair  kind  of  Christianity — in  these  days, 
when,  as  an  historian  has  said  of  us,  *'  wc  are  some- 
what drowsy  candidates  of  amaranthine  crowns," 
to  be  called  Quixotic,  may  be  a  testimony  to  which 
some  honor  may  attach  when  it  takes  the  form  of 
an  endeavor  to  do  good  to  our  fellow-men.  I  am 
quite  sure  Luther  would  have  been  called  Quix- 
otic; Whitfield  would  have  been  called  Q)uixotic, 
and  also  Howard  and  W'ilberforce.  To  be  called 
Quixotic  very  often  means  no  more  than  this,  that 
a  man  has  been  called  into  wakefulness  of  his  peril, 
while  others  are  slumbering  around  liim  through 
the  mist.  It  means  often  that  he  is  fired  with  a 
noble  and  necessary  enthusiasm,  having  realized 
the  dimensions  of  an  evil  to  which  others  are  blind- 
ed by  familiarity.  If  all  good  men  only  knew  what 
the  ravages  of  drink  are  (and  I  know  there  are 
many  in  woful  ignorance),  if  they  could  see  as  wc 
do  the  vision  of  England  struggling  in  the  grasp 
of  a  deadly  serpent,  then,  I  feel  convinced,  there  is 
scarcely  a  good  man  amongst  us  who  would  not 
feel  forced  to  take  some  part  in  the  struggle.  Now, 
I  dare  say,  you  will  ask,  Why  is  it  necessary  that 
any  should  become  total  abstainers?  Well,  this 
Church  of  England  Temperance  Society  claims  the 


Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer.  31 

aid  of  those  who  merely  pledge  themselves  to  tem- 
perance. It  asks  your  sympathy.  It  asks  your 
co-operation.  It  never  dreams  for  a  single  mo- 
ment of  condemning  any  one  for  not  taking  the 
pledge  of  temperance.  All  men  are  not  alike,  and 
are  not  called  upon  to  the  same  degree  to  take  the 
same  part  in  the  same  reforms.  It  was  said  in  the 
days  of  the  Reformation  that  four  agents  of  the 
Reformation  might  be  characterized  by  four  epi- 
grams:  Luther  —  Deeds,  not  words;  Erasmus — ■ 
Words,  not  deeds ;  Melancthon — Both  words  and 
deeds;  and  the  fourth,  neither  words  nor  deeds. 
We  want  in  this  Reformation  our  Luthers,  our 
Erasmuses,  and  our  Melancthons,  but  we  can  well 
dispense  with  the  services  of  the  fourth.  I  have 
often  been  grievously  misunderstood,  and  most 
willfully  misinterpreted,  but  I  ask  you  not  to  mis- 
understand what  I  shall  say  now,  if  I  say  that  in 
some  positions  and  for  some  people  temperance  is 
not  enough  in  the  struggle  against  drunkenness. 
You  have  all  heard  the  story  of  the  clergyman  in 
Scotland,  who  was  preaching  the  superior  virtue 
of  moderation  rather  than  totaJ  abstinence.  Imme- 
diately he  had  done,  from  the  center  of  the  meeting 
up  got  a  miserable  drunkard,  and  said,  "  Hoora, 
minister,  ye  are  on  our  side."  The  clergyman  was 
so  struck  by  the  remark  that  he  said,  "  I  will 
be  on  your  side  no  longer.  I  will  be  a  teetotaler." 
A  similar  occurrence  happened  not  very  long  ago 
at  Derby.  Every  army  needs  its  pioneers,  its  ad- 
vanced squadrons,  and  its  forlorn  hopes.  There 
was  an  age  when  Jerusalem  wanted  its  Nazarites, 
when  Christianity  needed  its   hermits,   when  the 


32  Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer. 

Cliurch  of  Rome  wanted  its  Mendicant  Orders, 
when  Catholicity  needed  its  Reformers,  when  the 
Church  of  England  needed  its  Weslcvans;  and 
there  is  a  day  when  the  Church  of  England,  and  I 
fear  the  Church  throughout  the  world,  too,  needs 
its  despised  total  abstainers.  Whether  the  battle 
is  to  be  won  or  not,  I  can  not  tell.  Whether  En- 
gland is  ever  to  be  rescued  from  that  position 
which  she  now  holds,  of  being  glued  to  the  chair 
of  tlic  publican,  like  the  lady  in  Milton's  "Mask 
of  Comus,"  I  can  not  tell.  But  I  say  if  she  is  to  be 
raised,  it  must  not  only  be  by  our  rushing  with  a 
sudden  start,  like  the  Elder  Brother,  and  putting 
to  flight  for  the  moment  alcohol  and  all  his  mon- 
strous crew,  but  it  also  must  be  by  the  spirit  of 
Total  Abstinence  coming  in  effectually  afterward. 
That  seems  to  be  the  relation  between  the  two 
branches  of  this  Society.  Let  us  work  together. 
Do  not  let  us  dream  of  condemning  those  who  do 
not  see  eye  to  eye  with  us.  On  the  other  hand,  do 
not  let  the  temperance  people  make  a  boast  of  how 
much  more  dignified  their  line  of  practice  is.  Let 
both  work  together,  and  in  this  way.  I  believe  and 
hope  the  work  may  ultimately  be  done.  Even  if 
this  total  abstinence  fails,  I  say  that  although  all  our 
hopes  in  that  direction  might  come  to  nothing,  I 
would  still  be  a  total  abstainer.  I  sJiould  still  wish 
to  do  something  more  than  merely  wash  my  hands 
and  declare  myself  innocent  of  the  blood  of  any 
who  came  to  their  end  by  this  dreadful  vice.  I 
should  like  to  say,  with  the  >Liccabees,  "  Let  us  die 
in  our  simplicity."  In  the  struggle  against  the 
slave  trade  it  is  said  that  a  great  many  English  fami- 


Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer.  33 

lies  gave  up  entirel}'  the  use  of  slave-grown  sugar. 
I  can  imagine  that  there  were  many  people  who 
would  ridicule  them  for  so  doing.  If  I  were  living 
in  those  days,  and  God  had  given  me  grace  to  take 
part  in  that  great  struggle,  I  do  hope  that  I  myself 
would  have  been  one  among  the  number  to  protest 
against  the  slave  trade  by  refusing  to  touch  slave- 
grown  sugar.  Let  us  suppose  that  you  and  I  lived 
in  China.  You  know  how  China  is  degraded  and 
blighted  by  that  opium,  in  the  guilty  traffic  in  which, 
I  grieve  to  say  that  this  country  is  deeply  impli- 
cated. Well,  if  we  were  living  in  China,  and  sup- 
posing people  said  to  us  that  opium  taken  in  moder- 
ation was  very  harmless  and  recommended  by 
almost  immemorial  custom,  and  called  us  a  great 
number  of  names  if  we  did  not  take  it,  I  should 
still  point  to  those  miserable,  degraded,  and  blighted 
victims  of  opium  and  should  say — "  Even  granting 
all  that  you  have  said  in  its  favor,  let  the  poppy 
grow  for  me.  I  admire  its  beauty ;  I  know  that  it 
contains  a  drug  which  may  be  precious  as  a  medi- 
cine, but  with  the  sight  of  all  those  sufferers  before 
me,  and  with  that  low  moan  of  human  misery  in 
my  ear,  I,  at  any  rate,  will  never  touch  opium  while 
I  live  in  China."  Many  would  say  my  argument 
IS  weak,  because  the  use  of  alcohol  is  not  so  dele- 
terious. There  is  something  perhaps  to  be  said  on 
the  other  side,  but  that  is  a  purely  physiological 
question,  and  I  leave  it  to  the  doctors  to  settle. 
Still,  I  am  sure  you  will  admit  that  if  the  moderate 
use  of  alcohol  is  not  so  deleterious  as  the  moderate 
use  of  opium,  on  the  other  hand,  the  excessive  use  of 
iilcohol  is  ten  times  more  ruinous  than  the  excessive 


34  Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer. 

use  of  opium.  Alcohol  fills  our  jails  ;  opium  docs  not. 
Alcohol  crowds  our  lunatic  asylums;  opium  does 
not.  Alcohol  makes  men  kick  their  wives  to  death  . 
opium  does  not.  "Alcohol  takes  away  a  man" — 
as  Bishop  Hall  says — and  puts  a  beast  in  his  place  ; 
opium  docs  not;  and,  therefore,  I  say  that,  just  as 
if  living  in  China,  I  should  think  it  necessary  to 
make  the  protest  and  not  touch  opium,  so,  living  in 
England,  I  think  it  my  duty,  without  for  a  moment 
judging  anybody,  now  that  I  know  the  facts,  not  to 
touch  alcohol  either.  But  many  will  say,  '*  You 
will  do  no  sort  of  good  by  your  total  abstinence." 
I  say,  be  it  so.  Efforts  are  ours;  results  are  God's. 
Let  us  do  our  best,  and  if  lie  sees  well — Me  will 
not,  at  any  rate,  despise  our  humble  efforts,  even  il 
He  does  not  bless  them  with  any  immediate  success. 
But  I  am  not  so  sure  that  total  abstinence  will  not 
do  good.  I  have  not  only  in  the  general  press, 
but  also  in  the  grave  pages  of  the  Guardian,  been 
called  Quixotic  for  talking  like  this,  and  wanting  in 
calm  judgment.  Again  I  say,  be  it  so.  I  don't 
mind  those  hard  things  as  applied  to  me  ;  but  I  re- 
peat it  that  the  Legislature  is  not  helping  us,  and 
will  not  help  us,  and  I  do  not  know  of  any  way  by 
which  reformation  from  drunkenness  in  England  is 
to  be  carried  out,  except  by  the  wide — nay,  the 
almost  universal — prevalence  for  a  time  of  total  ab- 
stinence. I  do  not— I  dare  not,  indeed — hope  that 
God  will  ever  give  to  me  the  priceless,  the  inestima 
ble  privilege  of  having  any  great  weight,  of  saying 
anything  which  will  much  help  forward  this  great 
reformation.  It  is  only  to  those  who  eminently 
deserve  it,  it  is  only  to  those  who  can   claim  in- 


Reasofts  for  Being  an  Abstainer.  35 

finitely  more  merit  than  I  can  claim  that  God  gives 
the  priceless  privilege  of  helping  forward  a  great 
national  good,  but  I  do  live  in  the  hope  that  some 
day  or  other  I  may  be  enabled  to  say  some  word 
which  will  affect  perhaps  some  one  single  person  in 
the  audience  so  that  he  xn^y  be  moved  to  turn  his 
thoughts  to  this  great  question,  and  that  he  may  go 
forth  with  the  fear  of  God  born  in  his  heart,  and 
from  him  conviction  may  be  flashed  into  thousands 
of  consciences  and  they  may  take  fire  with  an  en- 
thusiasm before  the  overwhelming  blast  of  indigna- 
tion of  which  this  huge  gilded  idol  of  iniquity  and 
misery  may  at  last  be  destroyed.  I  do  not,  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  despair. 

"  Tho'  the  mills  of  God  grind  slowly, 
Yet  they  grind  exceeding  small ; 
Tho'  with  patience  long  he  waiteth, 
Yet  exactly  grinds  he  all." 

The  reasons  which  have  influenced  one  person  to  be 
a  total  abstainer  may  influence  others.  After  all,  I 
believe  there  are  4,000,000  of  teetotalers  in  England 
at  this  time.  Are  they  all  Quixotic  ?  Are  they  all 
idiots  and  fools  ?  If  they  are,  I  say  again  that  many 
of  the  greatest  revolutions  ever  wrought  in  historv 
have  been  wrought  by  those  whom  the  world 
counted  its  idiots  and  its  fools.  Is  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter  a  Philogian  ?  Is  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester 
a  Manichean  ?  Is  Canon  Lightfoot  a  crackbrained 
enthusiast  ?  Is  Sir  Henry  Thompson  a  man  totally 
devoid  of  all  science?  Has  Dr.  Richardson  no 
knowledge  whatever  of  the  most  elementary  facts 
of  physiology  ?  Is  Professor  Acland  an  intemper- 
ate Pharisee  ?     If  all  these  men,  and  hundreds  more. 


36  Reasons  for  Bein^  an  Abstainer. 

peers,  and  magistrates,  and  judges,  and  ministers 
of  all  denominations,  eminent  Nonconformists,  men 
of  literature,  men  of  science,  and  hundreds  of 
working-men,  if  they  have  become  total  abstain- 
ers from  these  reasons,  why  should  it  be  so  very 
Quixotic  to  believe  that  what  has  inlluenced  a 
certain  number  of  average  men  ukiv  influence 
a  certain  number  more?  Wliy,  they  have  become 
total  abstainers  mainly  because  they  thought  it 
was  better  for  themselves  personally,  and  also  be- 
cause they  wish  to  set  a  safe  and  wise  example. 
All  I  ask  is.  if  you  join  in  this  particular  branch 
work  of  this  Society,  or  if  you  do  not,  do  as 
seems  3'ou  best;  do  not  sneer  at  those  who  are 
abstainers;  do  not  oppose  them.  I  know  that  our 
task  is  discouraging  enough,  but  of  this  I  am  sure, 
that  when  our  years  begin  to  draw  to  an  end  like  a 
talc  that  is  told  ;  when  the  enchantments  of  life 
have  ended  one  after  another  ;  and  when  the  shad- 
ows of  life's  evening  are  beginning  to  draw  around 
us,  oh  !  then  it  is  not  our  wealth,  it  is  not  our  suc- 
cesses, it  is  not  our  prosperity,  it  is  not  our  fame, 
which  will  give  us  the  smallest  amount  of  comfort  or 
of  happiness,  but  it  will  be  the  small  modicum  of  self 
denial  which  God  may  have  enabled  us  to  practice, 
and  the  small  modicum  of  good  which  God  may  have 
enabled  us  to  do,  and  that  if  we  have  had  none  of  these 
things,  which  people  count  as  earthly  blessings,  no 
wealth,  or  prosperity,  or  successes,  or  fame,  if  oui 
lives  have  been  passed  unceasingly  amid  the  strife 
of  tono^ues,  if  we  have  felt  it  to  be  our  dutv  to  make 
enemies — as  many  a  good  man  has  been  compelled 
to  make  enemies  even  of  the  good,  for  the  sake  of 


Reasons  for  Being  an  Abstainer.  37 

such  truth  as  God  enabled  him  to  see — even  suppos- 
ing- that  our  life  seems  in  all  other  respects  to  have 
been  a  failure,  then,  at  any  rate,  we  should  have 
held  it  to  be  an  inestimable  privilege  to  have  made 
an  effort,  however  slight  or  futile,  to  rescue  myriads 
of  Englishmen  and  Englishwomen  from  a  frightful 
degradation,  and  to  expel  a  cause  of  inexpressible 
misery  from  myriads  of  English  homes. 


TOTAL  ABSTINENCE 

FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  OURSELVES  AND  OTHERS. 

By  THE  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


The  Rev.  Canon  Farrar  said : — My  Lords, 
Ladies,  and  Gentlemen  : — It  ought  to  be,  and  it  is, 
with  some  trepidation  that  I  rise  to  address  so 
highly  distinguished  an  audience  on  a  greatly  dis- 
paraged cause.  The  secular  press  tells  us  that  the 
advocates  of  total  abstinence  are  impracticable  fa- 
natics and  wrong-headed  Pharisees;  the  religious 
press  tells  us  that  abstinence  is  a  much  poorer  stage 
of  virtue  than  moderation,  and  that,  by  declining 
wine  and  beer,  we  fall  far  below  the  attainment  of 
those  moral  athletes  who,  to  their  hearts'  content 
indulge  themselves  in  both ;  even  clergymen  in 
their  sermons  and  at  the  Church  Congresses  have 
argued  that  we  are  despising  a  good  creature  of 
God,  setting  ourselves  against  a  precept  of  St.  Paul 
and  cherishing  a  heresy  which  is  dangerously  akin 
to  that  of  the  ancient  Manichees.  Well,  gentlemen, 
if  a  cause  had  no  opponents,  I  for  one  should  think 
it  a  grievous  waste  of  time  to  be  among  its  advo- 
cates ;  and  the  only  thing  which  reconciles  me  to 
the  uncongenial  task  of  speaking  on  the  subject  is 
the  knowledge  that  it  is  unpopular  and   decried. 


40  Total  A  bs tint  nee 

And  as  for  these  arguments  \vc  hnvc  had  ihcm  ad 
Jrcsscd  to  us  again  and  again;  and  you  must  par- 
don mc  if  the  ullcr  intcllfctual  disdain  with  which 
I  regard  them,  prevents  mc  from  doing  more  than 
alhide  to  them  lo-day.  When  the  world  in  general 
had  abandoned  the  defense  of  protectionfthe  forty 
members  of  Parhament  who  still  staunchly  con- 
tinued to  vote  for  it  were  popularlv  known  as  the 
forty  cannon-balls ;  not  many  vears  earlier  these 
forty  cannon-balls  would  have  been  four  hundred 
cannon-balls,  and  precisely  the  same  arguments 
were  reiterated  by  the  forty  as  had  once  con- 
vinced the  four  hundred.  And  it  is  my  own 
firm  conviction  that  these  arguments  of  the  anti- 
abstinence  majority  will  soon  become  those  of  the 
minority.  Tlicv  remind  me  of  nothing  so  much  as 
the  victims  of  Mr.  Punch,  in  the  now  rare  street 
show  w  hich  used  to  delight  our  childish  days.  It 
is  perfectly  useless  for  that  hero  to  knock  them  on 
the  head  and  bang  them  on  the  floor.  They  show 
a  wooden  vitality  which  is  perfectly  inexhaustible. 
No  matter  how  violently  thev  have  been  dashed 
down,  and  finished  off  by  a  final  rap,  they  are  sure 
to  start  up  a  moment  afterward,  wagging  their 
futile  heads  and  shaking  their  minatory  arms;  and 
even,  long  after  they  have  been  finally  disposed  of, 
their  ghosts  reappear  with  an  exasperating  perti- 
nacity. Now  as  to  these  objections,  if  any  one 
likes  to  call  me  Manichean  because  I  have  become 
an  abstainer,  I  can  only  assure  him  with  a  smile 
that  I  should  like  him,  to  the  same  extent,  to  adopt 
the  same  beneficent  heresy.  If,  in  spite  of  argu 
ments  which  daily  gain  in  overwhelming  cogency 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         41 

he  tells  me  that  alcohol  in  moderation  is  harmless, 
it  is  still  no  more  a  special  duty  of  mine  to  drink  it 
than  it  is  a  special  duty  of  mine  to  feed,  for  instance, 
on  Revalenta  Arabica.  If  I  prove  to  him  that  tf) 
millions  of  human  beings  it  is  not  only  deleterious, 
but  deadly,  I  say  that  to  them,  and  to  those  who 
wish  to  help  and  save  them,  it  is  no  more  a  good 
creature  of  God  than  laudanum  or  strychnine. 
And  as  to  the  so-called  Scriptural  arguments  in 
favor  of  drunkenness — I  beg  pardon,  I  mean  in 
favor  of  moderate  drinking  ;  which  is,  however,  ulti- 
mately W\Q  fons  et  origo  of  drunkenness — I  shall  say 
this  only,  that  wine  means  primarily  the  juice,  and 
often  as  I  believe  the  unfermented  juice  of  the 
grape;  and  that  the  drugged  beers,  and  stupefying 
porters,  and  fortified  ports,  and  plaistered  sherries, 
and  abominable  draughts  of  liquid  fire  which  are 
called  spirits  in  England,  are  no  more  the  pure 
fruit  of  the  vine  than  the  mariner's  compass  is  in. 
tended  when  we  are  told  that  St.  Paul  fetched  a 
compass  and  came  to  Rhcgium.  Into  that  Script- 
ural matter  I  have  no  time  at  present  to  enter,  and 
indeed  to  do  so  would  be  certainly  superfluous  to 
an  audience  intelligent  enough  and  educated 
enough  to  distinguish  between  the  dead  letter  and 
the  living  spirit.  Texts  have  been  quoted  for  cen- 
turies in  the  cause  of  ignorance  and  sin.  They 
have  been  quoted  to  countenance  every  absurdity, 
and  check  every  science,  and  denounce  every  moral 
reformation.  They  were  quoted  against  Columbus, 
against  Copernicus,  against  Galileo,  against  the 
geologists.  They  were  quoted  against  St.  Peter, 
against   St.   Paul,  against   Christ    Himself.     They 


43  Total  Al/slimnce 

were  quoted  against  Wyclifl'c,  against  Luther 
against  VVilbcrforce  They  have  been  quoted — 
quite  as  often  as  they  now  arc  against  the  cause  of 
temperance — in  defense  of  polygamy,  in  defense  of 
oppression,  in  defense  of  persecution,  in  defense 
of  inl(jlerance.  But  those  wlio  oppose  us  on  false 
deductions  from  Scripture  do  not  stand  alone  in 
resuscitating  thttse  slain  objections.  There  is  your 
senator,  intrenched  in  his  impregnable  aphorism 
that  "  you  can  not  make  people  sober  by  Act  of  Pap 
liament ;"  who  is  best  met,  {)artly,  by  the  direct 
denial  that  to  a  very  great  extent  you  can  make 
peo|)le  sober  by  Act  of  Parliament ;  and,  partly,  by 
the  entreaty  that  senates,  if  they  can  not  make 
people  sober,  should  at  least  not  continue  the  very 
effectual  means  which  prove  that  you  do  by  Acts 
of  Parliament  make  them  drunken.  There  is  your 
Man  of  the  World  who  angrily  asks  you  "  What  all 
the  noise  is  about,  and  why  you  can  not  leave  him 
alone?"  and  who  is  indeed  best  left  alone,  since  our 
arguments  are  only  intelligible  to  the  unselfish  and 
the  earnest.  There  is  your  defender  of  the  British 
Constitution,  who  asks  *'  How  you  can  interfere 
with  the  liberty  of  the  subject  ?  "  to  whom  I  answer, 
with  J.  S.  Mill,  that  the  libei-ty  of  one  man  ends 
where — however  profitable  to  himself — it  becomes 
fatal  and  ruinous  to  another;  and  with  Archbishop 
Whatcly,  that  I  will  gladly  curtail  my  libertv,  if 
thereby  I  can  restrain  another's  license.  And  then 
lastly,  there  is  a  very  important  person  indeed, 
your  Political  Economist.  You  tell  him  that  we 
are  squandering  ;{J^ 1 50,000,000  a  year  directly  (and 
how  awful   a   sum    indirectly,    is   known    to   God 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         43 

alone),  in  that  which  he  may  regard  as  a  harmless 
luxury,  but  which  we  see  to  be  a  frightful  curse 
to  millions,  and  which  we  believe  to  be  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  injurious  to  all — and  what  does  he 
do?  First  he  nibbles  at  the  figures;  talks  about 
exaggeration ;  and  without  saying  one  word  about 
the  indirect  cost  to  the  nation  of  alcohol,  says  that 
its  direct  cost  is,  after  all,  ''only"  ;^ 1 3 1 ,000,000 ; 
and  that  of  this  the  working  classes  spend  "only" 
;^36,ooo,ooo,  and  that  this  is  "  only  "  equivalent  to 
what  they  spend  in  rent;  and  that  ^87,000,000  of 
the  whole  sum  spent  are  not  lost  because  they  go 
in  duty  to  the  Exchequer  and  in  profits  to  the 
liquor  trade.  Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  not  a  Profes- 
sor, and  perhaps  it  may  only  be  my  ignorance,  but 
i  confess  that  this  is  a  political  economy  which 
fairly  astounds  me.  It  reminds  me  of  nothing  so 
much  as  the  answer  gi  ven,  it  is  said,  but  let  us  hope 
not,  by  an  Oxford  undergraduate,  to  the  question, 
"  What  are  the  chief  sources  of  revenue  to  the  Shet- 
land Isles?"  and  who  answered  that  "the  inhabit- 
ants earned  an  honest,  but  somewhat  precarious, 
subsistence  by  washing  one  another's  clothes ! " 
But  seriously,  gentlemen,  supposing  that  this 
;^i 3 1, 000,000 — for  in  this  amazing  bill  we  will  not 
quarrel  about  a  million  or  two,  more  or  less — were 
spent  not  in  alcohol,  but  in  fireworks  ?  Would  it  be 
an  argument  to  any  one  who  complained  that  this 
was  a  fearful  waste,  to  say  that  the  working  classes 
*'only"  spent  ;^36,ooo,ooo  of  it;  that  fireworks 
amused  them ;  and  that  ;^87,ooo,ooo  of  it  was  not 
lost  because  it  went  in  duty  to  the  revenue  and  in 
profits    to    the    pyrotechnists?      It    is    surely    an 


44  Total  Abstinence 

amnzinp;^  conception  of  national  advantapfc  which 
makes  it  consist  in  the  mere  circulation  of  money 
spent  in  unproductive  labor;  and  any  one  who 
knows  anything  whatever  about  the  Temperance 
question,  knows  that  the  grounds  on  which  we 
brand  as  waste  this  vast  consumption  of  our  re- 
sources, are  grounds  for  which  we  at  least  offer  a 
daily  increasing  mass  of  proof;  namely,  that  alco- 
hol is  not  a  food  ;  that  it  is  not  a  source  of  warmth  ; 
that  it  is  not  a  source  of  strength  ;  that  it  can  not 
even  conceivably  be  a  necessity,  seeing  that  our 
thousands  of  prisoners  gain  in  health  and  strength, 
instead  of  losing,  by  its  total  withdrawal ;  that  there 
are  whole  races  of  men  who  never  touch  it;  and 
that  the  Total  Abstainers  of  England,  who  now 
number  4,000.000,  arc  among  the  healthiest  of  men  ; 
and  that,  while  it  is  thus  absolutely  needless,  the 
abuse  of  it  is  confessedly  and  demonstrably  the 
curse  and  shame  of  England  both  at  home  and' 
abroad,  the  most  fertile  and  the  most  potent  of  all 
existing  causes  of  degradation  and  ruin.  Well, 
gentlemen,  if  these  things  be  so— and  whether  they 
are  so  you  can  not  judge  at  all  till  you  have  at  least 
faced  the  evidence — then  I  say  deliberately  and 
distinctly  that  England  would  be  a  licher  country, 
a  better  country,  a  happier  country,  a  country  in 
all  respects  more  blessed,  if  alcoholic  drink  v/ere 
non-existent,  and  if  ;^i 50,000,000  were  spent  annu- 
ally on  fireworks  instead ; — for  this  among  other 
reasons,  because  the  putting  away  that  magnificent 
revenue  in  smoke  and  flame  would  not  only  do  us 
less  direct  harm,  but  would  also  save  us  from  the 
rast  loss  caused   indirectly  to  the    nation   by  the 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         45 

occupation,  for  hops,  of  69,000  acres  of  our  soil ;  by 
the  destruction,  for  beer  and  spirits,  of  12,000,000 
of  bushels  of  grain  ;  and  by  the  crushing  expense 
of  all  the  pauperism,  the  lunacy,  the   crime,  the 
accidents — the   burnt  houses,  the   wrecked   ships, 
the    exploded    collieries,    the     shattered     railway 
trains — which  can  be  traced  directly  to  drink  alone. 
Now,  gentlemen,  I  will  tell  you  why  I  speak  of 
Total  Abstinence.     I  am  bidden  to-day  to  point  out 
the   claims  of  the  Temperance  movement  on  the 
Pubhc  Schools  and  Universities,  and  if  by  the  Tem- 
perance movement  be  merely  meant  the   discoun- 
tenancing of  drunkenness,  surely  to  speak  about  it 
would  be  needless.    1  suppose  that  no  one  here  will 
be  likely  to  act,  as  I  once  saw  a  gentleman  act,  who 
sat  at  a  meeting  and  did  not  blush  to  applaud  the 
disgraceful  facts  and  alarming  statistics  of  intem- 
perance.    To  such  an  one  we  could  only  say, — 

"  Well  spoken  advocate  of  sin  and  shame, 
Known  by  thy  bleating,  Ignorance  thy  name." 

But  I  need  hardly  say  that  no  man  would  have  any 
shadow  of  a  right  to  the  titles  of  a  Christian  and  a 
gentleman — nay,  he  would  brand  himself  as  an  en- 
emy to  his  race — if  he  did  not  join,  heart  and  soul, 
in  the  wish  to  check  intemperance.  If  that  were 
all,  it  would  be  an  insult  to  your  understandings  to 
argue  with  you  that  the  Temperance  movement  has 
claims  upon  you.  Of  course  it  has  claims  upon 
you ;  of  course  it  has  claims  upon  every  living  man 
in  whose  breast  beats  a  human  heart.  But  I  shall 
take  the  unpopular.  Quixotic  side,  and  ask  you  to 
consider   whether  tctal   abstinence  has  no  claims 


4^  Tolul  Abstiiunce 

upon  you.  I  shall  not  say — I  have  never  said— 
that  it  is  your  duty — or  any  man's  duty — to  take  so 
far  upon  you  the  vow  of  the  Nazaritc;  but  1  shall 
humbly  ask  for  your  unprejudiced  consideration, 
md  I  shall  leave  to  yourselves  the  manly  decision, 
while  I  be^  you,  for  a  few  moments,  to  glance  at 
the  question  with  me — first,  in  its  personal,  and  then 
in  one  only  of  its  social  aspects. 

Let  me  begin  with  the  very  lowest  ground  of  all. 
I  look  around  me,  and  I  am  everv  day  more  deep- 
ly impressed  with  the  increasing  seventy  of  the 
struggle  for  life,  and  the  immense  dilliculty  of  earn- 
ing a  livelihood  by  thousands  of  boys  and  youths 
of  the  upper  and  professional  classes ;  and  I  ask 
whether,  under  such  circumstances,  it  is  not  worth 
a  young  man's  while  to  make  his  conditions  of  life 
as  simple  as  possible,  and  to  save  himself,  by  a  very 
trivial  sell-denial,  from  a  very  needless  and  burden- 
some expense?  I  tell  my  poor  people  that  one 
single  pint  of  beer  a  day  means  £i  a  year,  that 
three  pints  a  day,  which  is  in  most  of  these  families 
a  very  moderate  allowance,  means  ;{i^ga  year  ou'.  of 
their  wages,  and  that  would  in  20  years  with  inter- 
est become  no  less  than  .^257,  which  would  buy 
them  a  freehold  house  and  garden.  I  surely  may 
say  to  many  of  you  who  hereafter  will  not  find  it 
so  easy  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door — taking 
now  this  very  lowest,  yet  not  imimportant  ground 
— that  even  four  glasses  of  sherry  a  day  in  a  house- 
hold (and  how  many  families  are  there  who,  if  they 
use  it  at  all,  confine  themselves  to  that?)  means 
some  ten  dozen  bottles  a  year,  and  that  even  in  a 
small  and  struggling  clergyman's  family  of  a  few 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         47 

people  some  twenty  pounds  can  very  ill  indeed  be 
spared.  The  day  may  come  when  you  will  not 
think  this  a  very  trivial  sum  ;,  but  trivial  or  not,  it 
is  undesirable  if  it  be  a  waste,  and  it  is  foolish  if 
people  are  better  without  it.  Now  this  at  least  is 
certain,  which  is,  that  to  a  young  man  and  a  healthy 
man  alcohol  in  an)'^  form  is  needless,  even  if  it  be 
not  injurious.  I  find  that  even  those  medical  men 
who  write  against  abstinence  are  constantly  making 
admissions  which  tell  dead  against  them.  Dr. 
Burney  Yco  wrote  strongly  against  abstinence,  yet 
he  says,  speaking  of  precisely  the  most  popular 
wine  of  the  day,  "  Dry  sherries  do  an  incalculable 
imount  of  harm."  Dr.  Brunton  and  Dr.  Burdon 
Sanderson,  and  Sir  W.  Gull  are  none  of  them  total 
abstainers,  and  the  first  two  are  distinctly  unfavor- 
able to  total  abstinence,  yet  Dr.  Brunton  says  be- 
fore the  Lords'  Committee,  "  If  a  man  eats  well 
and  sleeps  well,  he,  does  not  want  it,  and  is  better 
without  it."  Dr.  Burdon  Sanderson  says,  "  It  is 
not  at  all  required  in  health  ;''  and  Sir  W.  Gull, 
among  much  more  which  coming  from  such  a  man 
is  of  the  most  immense  general  and  scientific  im- 
portance, says  that  the  constant  use  of  alcohol,  even 
in  moderation,  injures  the  nervous  tissue,  and  is 
deleterious  to  health  ;  that  a  man  may  very  materi- 
ally injure  his  constitution  short  of  drunkenness ; 
and  that  a  great  deal  of  injury  is  done  to  health  by 
the  habitual  use  of  wines  in  their  various  kinds,  and 
alcohol  in  its  various  shapes,  even  in  so-called  mod- 
erate quantities,  by  people  of  both  sexes  who  are 
supposed  to  be  fairly  well,  and  who  are  not  in  the 
least  intemperate."     I  could  quote  to  you  on  the 


48  Total  Abstinence 

same  side  the  distinct  evidence  of  Sir  H.  Thompson, 
of  Dr.  Norman  Kerr,  of  Dr.  B.  \V.  Richardson,  oi 
more  than  2,000  physicians  in  1846,  and  of  an  ever- 
increasing  number  of  eminent  medical  men  ;  but  I 
greatly  prefer,  and  I  am  quite  content  to  rest  it  on 
the  spontaneous,  the  unbiased,  often  the  most  un- 
willing testimony  of  those  who  are  in  no  way 
pledged  to  total  abstinence,  and  are  even  in  some 
cases  distinctly  hostile  to  it. 

So  much  on  the  score  of  health  ;  and  what  about 
strength?  You  desire  to  be  athletes,  gentlemen  ; 
well,  I  venture  to  say  to  you  that  you  will  be  all 
the  better  and  stronger  if  you  are  total  abstainers. 
When  the  workmen  in  our  foundries,  are  doing 
their  heaviest  tasks,  they  drink  nothing  but  oat- 
meal-water. When  Captain  Webb  swam  the  Chan, 
nel,  and  Weston  walked  his  thousand  miles,  and 
Adam  Ayles,  the  Arctic  explorer,  got  nearest  to 
the  Pole,  they  did  it  without  a  ckop  of  stimulants  ; 
and  I  dare  say  that  you  have  already  found  out  for 
yourselves  that,  as  Dr.  Burdon  Sanderson  says, 
"  Alcohol  is  especially  injurious  in  continuous  mus 
cular  exertion." 

And  then  as  to  mental  work,  many  of  you  desire 
to  be  students  and  scholars.  Will  alcohol  help 
you  ?  Sir  Henry  Thompson  says  that  "  of  all  peo- 
ple I  know  who  can  not  stand  alcohol,  the  brain- 
workers  can  do  so  least."  Sir  W.  Gull  tells  us  that 
alcohol  "c'egenerates  the  tissue,  and  spoils  the  in- 
tellect." Many  a  man  has  ruined  a  Hne  intellect, 
as  Macaulay  tells  us  that  Lord  Byron  did,  by  ar- 
dent spirits  and  Rhenish  wine;  many  a  man  has 
polluted  with  the  strange  fires  of  alcohol  the  vestal 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         49 

flame  on  the  altar  of  genius;  but  in  spite  of  all 
devil's  proverbs  to  the  contrary,  no  man  has  ever 
yet  improved  it;  and  the 

"  Vino  forma  j>erit,  vino  consumitur  aetas," 

IS  as  true  now  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Propertius 
nearly  2,000  years  ago.  Gentlemen,  I  could  go  on 
heaping  proof  on  proof  that  even  if  alcohol  be  not 
positively  harmful — even  if  it  do  not  tend  to  weak- 
en and  degrade  the  physical  organization — it  is,  at 
the  very  best,  a  needless  and  a  questionable  luxury  ; 
and  therefore  one  which  a  young  man  might,  I 
think,  very  reasonably  despise.  But  I  have  some- 
thing more  serious  to  say.  In  speaking  of  the 
purely  personal  aspect  of  the  question,  I  have  ovXy 
glanced  at  its  physical,  and  have  not  so  much  as 
touched  on  its  moral  and  spiritual  aspects.  Now7' 
as  regards  these,  my  own  belief  is  that  alcohol  does 
tend  (if  taken  very  moderately  it  may  be  only  in  an 
infinitesimal  degree,  but  still  does  tend)  to  excite 
the  lower,  and  to  neutralize  the  spiritual  elements 
in  our  nature,  and  that,  in  myriads  who  stop  far 
short  of  being  drunkards,  it  blunts  the  moral  sensi- 
bilities, and  enslaves  the  enervated  will  And  al- 
though millions  never  succumb  to  these  influences, 
yet  millions  also  do.  Do  you  suppose  that  there 
was  ever  a  drunkard  since  the  world  began  who 
dreamed,  when  he  first  began  to  quaff 

"  The  foaming  vintage  of  Champagne 

In  silver  goblets  tossed,"  * 

or  to  do  any  of  the  other  fine  things  which  our 
Bacchanalian  sons  so  fatally  belaud,  that  he,  too, 


50  Total  Abstinence 

vvotild  Hill  into  the  shame  and  misery  of  the  drunk* 
ard?  From  the  day  when  Noah  planted  a  vineyard 
and  ate  of  the  fruit  thereof — nay.  it  may  be  even 
from  the  days  of  Eden  if,  as  the  Rabbis  say,  the 
vine  was  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil — from  the  clays  when  the  two  sons  of  Aaron 
perished  at  the  altar  in  their  intoxication  ;  number- 
less of  the  miserable  have  experienced  the  fatal 
physical  fact  that  as  long  as  a  drop  of  alcohol  re- 
mains in  the  system,  it  creates  a  desire  for  more; 
the  fatal  moral  fact  that'evil  habit  first  allures,  then 
masters,  finallv  maddens  and  enslaves.  At  the 
entrance  of  one  of  our  college  chapels,  lies  a  name- 
less grave ;  that  grave  covers  the  mortal  remains 
of  one  of  its  most  promising  fellows — ruined 
tnrough  drink.  I  received,  not  long  ago,  a  letter 
from  an  old  schoolfellow,  a  clergyman,  who  after 
long  labors  was  in  want  of  clothes  and  almost  of  food. 
I  inquired  the  cause;  it  was  drink.  A  few  weeks 
ago  a  wretched  clergyman  came  to  me  in  dcploro- 
ble  misery,  who  had  dragged  down  his  family  with 
hira  into  ruin.  What  had  ruined  him  ?  Drink!  When 
>y  I  was  at  Cambridge,  one  of  the  most  prom  sing 
scholars  was  a  youth  who,  years  ago,  died  in  a 
London  hospital  penniless,  of  delirium  tremens, 
through  d.ink.  When  I  was  at  King's  College,  I 
used  to  sit  next  to  a  handsome  youth,  who  grew 
up  to  be  a  brilliant  writer;  he  died  in  the  prime  of 
I'fe,  a  victim  of  drink.  I  once  knew  an  eloquent 
philanthropist  who  was  a  very  miserable  man. 
I'he  world  never  knew  the  curse  which  was  on 
him;  but  his  friends  knew  that  it  was  drink.  And 
why  is  it  that  these  tragedies  are  daily  happening? 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Other  y.         51 

It  is  through  the  fatal  fascination,  the  seductive 
sorcery  of  drink,  against  which  Scripture  so  often 
warns.  It  is  because  drink  is  one  of  the  surest  of 
"  the  devil's  ways  to  man,  and  of  nnan's  ways  to  the 
devil."  It  is  because  the  old  Greek  imagination 
hit  upon  a  frightful  truth,  when  it  surrounded  the 
car  of  Bacchus  with  half-human  satyrs  and  raving 
meanads.  "  I  must  take  care,"  wrote  a  great  and 
good  man  the  other  day,  "for  I  find  myself  get. 
ting  an  ugly  craving  for  alcohol ; "  and  what  is  such 
a  remark  but  an  unconscious  comment  on  Milton  s 
noble  lines: 

"  Bacchus,  that  first  from  out  the  purple  grape 
Crushed  the  sweet  poison  of  misused  wine. 
After  the  Tuscan  mariners  transformed 
Skirting  the  Tyrrhene  shore  as  the  wind  listed 
On  Circe's  island  fell.     Who  knows  not  Circe, 
The  daughter  of  the  sun,  whose  charmed  cup 
Whoever  tasted  lost  his  upright  shape, 
And  downward  fell  into  a  grovelling  swine  ?  " 

Which  things  are  simply  this  allegory,  that  he  who 
loves  wine  is  driven  as  the  wind  lists,  into  a  realm 
of  sorcery,  and  that  this  sorcery  culminates  in  utter 
degradation.  But  you,  it  may  be,  are  quite  sure 
that  you  will  never  fall  on  Circe's  island,  or  \\n~ 
mould  reason's  mintage.  But  wliy  are  you  so 
sure?  Is  your  nature  so  much  stronger  and  nobler 
than  that  of  Burns',  or  than  that  of  Hartlc)'  Cole- 
ridge, or  than  that  of  Charles  Lamb,  with  his  sad 
cry,  "The  waters  have  gone  over  me,  but  out  of 
the  depths,  could  I  be  heard,  I  would  cry  out  to  all 
those  who  have  but  set  a  foot  in  the  perilous 
flood?"     Or  why  are  you  safer  than  these  600,000 


Si  Tutal  Al'stirtfnce 

drunkards  in  these  unhappy  islands,  many  of  them 
men  of  keen  intellect,  many  of  them  men  of  noble 
instincts,  many  of  them  men  of  most  amiable  char- 
acter? How  did  these  men  become  drunkards? 
Do  you  think  that  they  were  born  drunkards?  Do 
you  think  that  they  became  drunkards  the  moment 
they  tasted  alcohol?  Why,  'gentlemen,  you  know 
that  there  is  only  one  way  bv  which  any  man  ever 
became  a  drunkard,  and  that  is  by  growing  fond  of 
alcohol,  at  first  in  moderate  drinkinj:^ — citherby  the 
glass  or  by  the  dram — day  by  day  a  little  increased 
— year  by  year  a  little  multiplied — by  the  solitary 
becommg  the  frequent,  and  the  frequent  the  habit- 
ual, and  the  habitual  the  all-but-incvitable  trans- 
gression ;  till  at  last,  some  fine  morning,  as  they 
awoke,  perhaps  in  the  shame  of  some  inevitable 
fall,  it  came  upon  them  with  a  flash  that  they  are 
drunkards.  This  perhaps  is  the  commonest  method 
of  ruin. 

"  We  are  not  worse  at  once  :  the  course  of  evil 
Begins  so  slowly  and  from  such  slight  source. 
An  infant's  hand  might  stem  the  breach  with  clay: 
But  let  the  stream  grow  wider,  and  philosophy, 
Aye  and  religion  too,  may  strive  in  vain 
To  stem  the  headlong  current." 

But  it  is  not  always  in  this  slow  and  gradual 
manner  that  men  have  become  drunkards.  Some- 
times they  have  been  moderate  for  years,  and  then 
at  last — when  they  thought  themselves  perfectly 
secure — the  temptation  has  come  upon  them,  "ter- 
rible and  with  a  tiger's  leaps" — in  the  delight  of 
some  boon  companionship — in  the  exhilaration  of 
some  sudden  good  fortune,  in  the  agony  of  some 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         53 

unexpected  bereavement.  Gentlemen,  if  every  one 
of  you  think  yourselves  so  absolutely  and  perma- 
nently safe  from  a  temptation  to  which  so  many 
millions  have  succumbed  ;  or  if  you  think  that, 
being  absolutely  safe  yourself,  no  single  person 
toward  whom  you  have  duties  and  whom  you 
\ove,  no  wife,  or  child,  and  friend,  or  servant,  or 
parishioner — can  by  any  possibihty  be  ever  tempted 
by  your  example,  all  that  I  can  say  is  that,  while  I 
can  not  share  your  confidence,  I  most  earnestly 
trust  that  no  bitter  irremediable  experience  may 
ever  give  you  cause  to  repent  of  it  in  dust  and 
ashes. 

But  now,  gentlemen,  T  will  pass  entirely  from  the 
personal  to  the  social  aspect  of  the  question.  It 
has  been  said  that  if  you  are  fond  of  wine  you 
ought  to  abstain  for  your  own  sake,  and  if  you 
are  not  fond  of  wine,  you  ought  to  abstain  for 
the  sake  of  others.  That  may  be  only  an  epi- 
gram ;  but  yet  I  do  say,  gentlemen,  that  if  you 
could  disprove  all  that  I  have  as  yet  said  to  you, 
I  should  still  try  to  be  a  total  abstainer.  It  is 
as  I  have  said  my  conviction,  deepened  by  an 
ever-increasing  mass  of  evidence,  that  the  tendency 
of  alcohol  is  bad  for  every  one  morally,  intellectu- 
ally, and  spiritually,  and  that  no  one  can  tell  whom 
his  example  may  not  injuriously  affect: — but  even 
were  it  otherwise,  I  should  still  think  it  right  to 
abstain.  For  that  alcohol  is  a  necessity,  except  in 
the  verj'  rarest  cases,  you  can  not  prove.  And  there, 
fore  I  should  still  be  a  total  abstainer /^r  the  sake  of 
others.  For  even  the  very  idiot  must  admit  that 
one  evil  at  least  comes  from  drink — one  evil  colos- 


54  Total  Abstinenar 

sal  and  rum  )i:<5 — one  evil  immediately  and  direct, 
ly,  and  therefore  in  some  cases  necessarily; — and 
that  is  drunkenness — the  national  drunkenness  ol 
this  country.  It  makes  niy  cheeks  blush  lor  shame, 
it  makes  my  heart  beat  fast  with  indij^^nalion,  when 
I  think  that  this  precious,  this  glorious,  this  immor- 
tal Mni^land  of  ours,  is  itself  one  of  the  most 
drunken  nations,  and  perhaps  the  greatest  cause  of 
drunkenness  in  other  nations,  of  all  under  God's 
sun.  Gentlemen,  drunkenness,  I  grieve  to  say — 
for  it  is  a  masterstroke  of  the  powers  of  evil — is 
too  often  treated  as  laughable.  Continually  it  is 
made  a  subject  of  jest  in  our  comic  newspapers, 
and  no  one  can  live  in  London  without  noticing 
that  it  is  the  favorite  jocosity  of  those  wretched 
comic  songs,  those  deplorably  abysmal  degrada- 
tions of  all  verse  and  all  music,  which  flow  like  a 
stream  of  vitriol  from  detestable  music  halls  over 
the  morals  of  the  boys  and  girls,  whom,  in  our 
schools  and  classes,  we  have  striven  to  win  to  God. 
Well,  gentlemen.  I  can  not  laugh  at  these  jests;  I 
can  but  look  with  disgust  and  abhorrence  on  these 
songs.  Gentlemen,  have  you  ever  seen — if  not  may 
you  never  see  ! — a  young  man  suflfcring  from  delir- 
ium tremens?  From  attempting  to  describe  its 
horrors  I  shrink  appalled  ;  but  you  arc  probably  all 
aware  that  one  of  the  features  of  delirium  tremens 
is  all  kinds  of  illusions  and  phantoms.  A  friend  ol 
mine  told  me  the  other  day,  that,  finding  himself  in 
London,  he  turned  into  a  tavern  lor  some  lunch. 
As  he  sat  there  a  dog  suddenly  ran  across  the 
room,  and  my  friend  started.  "  Oh,  don't  be  afraid, 
gir,"  said  the  waiter,  coming  up  to  him,  "  it  xvas  a 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         55 

dog,  it  was  a  real  dog,  I  assure  you."  At  first  he 
could  not  understand  what  the  man  meant;  but 
then  it  flashed  on  him  with  a  thrill  of  horror,  that 
this  man  in  his  own  person,  and  in  the  person  of  his 
"ustomers,  was  familiar  with  the  ghastly  illusions 
of  that  most  terrible  of  all  diseases,  which  is  God's 
Nemesis  upon  excess.  Well,  gentlemen,  this  being 
but  one  of  the  horrors  of  that  drunkenness,  which 
has  its  direct  and  sole  origin  in  drink — are  you  a 
Christian  — are  you  a  man — can  you  have  a  heart 
in  your  breast  which  selfishness  has  not  quite  eaten 
away — if  you  can,  hear  without  shame  and  sorrow 
that,  to  say  nothing  of  the  grocers'  licenses,  there 
are  98,955  public  houses  in  England,  and  that  there 
is  scarcely  one  of  these  which  is  not  to  some  a 
direct  inevitable  source  of  terrible  temptation  • 
that  there  are  38,845  beer-shops  in  England.  o{  which 
there  is  scarcely  one  which  is  not  a  direct  source 
of  temptation  in  the  neighborhood  ;  that  in  the 
year  1875  there  were  in  England  alone  203,989  ar- 
rests for  drunkenness,  and  122,913  arrests  for  as- 
saults, many  of  these  of  the  loathiest  and  most 
diabolically  brutal  character,  connected  with 
drunkenness;  making  the  ghastly  total  of  326,902 
offenses  on  the  score  of  this  sin  alone — which  yet 
does  not  represent  one-tenth  part  of  the  shame,  the 
ruin,  the  misery,  the  loss,  the  burden,  which  are 
directly  due  to  this  awful  sin  ?  The  drunkard,  as  I 
have  said,  is  often  in  his  sober  moments  a  high- 
minded  and  honorable  man,  and  no  amount  of  phys- 
ical torture  can  equal  the  anguish  of  moral  degra- 
dation, in  which  he  knows  what  he  is,  and  loathes 
what  he  is,  and  yet  is  what  he  is  by  a  deadly  spell 


$6  Total  Abstinence 

which  he  can  not  break.  Drunkards  have  been 
known  to  describe  the  horror  and  intensity  of  this 
spell,  by  saying  that  if  a  glass  of  brandy  were  set 
before  them,  and  between  them  and  it  yawned  the 
very  abyss  of  hell,  thcv  still  must  stretch  fortli  their 
hands  and  take  it.  And  the  worst  of  all  is  the 
knowledge  that  these  unhappy  sinners  and  victims 
transmit  to  their  children  an  hereditary  craving,  of 
which  those  unacquainted  with  it  can  not  conceive 
the  terrible  intensity.  Imagine,  gentlemen,  the  case 
• — alas  !  in  the  lower  classes  the  very  common  case  ! 
■ — of  the  poor  unhappy  youth,  born  with  this  awful 
tendency,  conscious  \^i  it,  afraid  of  it,  yet  not  suffi- 
cient! v  b'aced  in  moral  self-discipline  to  prevent  it 
from  becoming  first  an  allurement,  then  a  mastery, 
then  the  tyranny  of  a  remorseless  demon.  Imagine 
a  m.'m — and  such  cases  are — a  man  so  unhappily 
constituted  by  the  sins  of  his  fathers,  that,  for  long, 
long  years,  from  boyhood  to  the  very  verge  of  old 
age,  the  soul  within  him  has  "to  stand  and  watch 
like  an  unsleeping  sentinel,"  lest  at  any  moment  the 
burning  congenital  appetite  for  strong  drink  should 
clutch  him  with  hands  of  fire,  and  drag  him  down 
to  the  unspeakable  horror  of  the  drunkard's  grave  ! 
Well,  gentlemen,  it  is  on  behalf  of  these  drunk- 
ards that  I  appeal  to  you  ;  and  not  for  their  sakes 
only,  but  for  the  sakes  of  their  little  sons  and  their 
little  daughters,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  myriads  of 
those  white  young  souls,  which  are  being  at  this 
moment  trained  in  our  national  schools,  and  of 
which  nearly  all  will  have  to  wrestle  with  this  as 
one  of  their  sorest  temptations,  and  of  which  many 
a  thousand,  if  not  saved  and  shielded,  will  most  in* 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.  $7 

evitably  fall.  Remember,  gentlemen,  I  entreat  3'ou, 
that  the  drunkards  of  to-day  arc  not  the  drunkards 
of  to-morrow ;  that  this  ignoble  and  inglorious 
army  of  drunkards,  as  its  ranks  are  thinned  by 
death,  is  being  daily  recruited  by  those  who  as  yet 
are  not  drunkards,  but  who  only  drink.  For  my- 
self, supposing  that  considerations  like  these  had 
not  already  induced  me  to  take  the  pledge,  I  ven- 
ture to  say  that  if  I  were  in  this  hall  hearing  these 
facts,  and  if  I  knew  that,  in  this  hall,  there  were 
but  one  youth  or  man  who  would  fall  hereafter  into 
this  horrible  abyss,  then  I  should  feel  it  would  be 
well  worth  the  sacrifice  of  every  one  of  us  taking 
the  pledge,  if  by  so  doing  we  could  but  save  that 
one ;  it  might  be  a  personal  blessing  to  every  one 
of  us,  but  even  if  not,  yet  how  small  would  be  cur 
loss,  how  great  his  gain !  and  I  should  think  that 
we  were  but  acting  in  the  spirit  of  that  great  apos- 
tle who  said  that  he  would  neither  eat  meat,  nor 
drink  wine,  nor  anything  whereby  his  brother  was 
made  to  offend.  I  have  not  said,  I  never  shall  say, 
a  word  against  the  publicans  ;  I  have  not  said,  I 
never  shall  say,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  any  man,  not 
being  a  drunkard,  to  take  the  pledge  ;  but  I  do  say 
that  this  is  a  plain  fact,  namel}^  that  drunkenness 
comes  of  moderate  drinking,  and  that  if,  as  a  na- 
tion, we  would  make  the  vow  of  abstinence  all  but 
universal  among  us,  then  drunkenness  at  any  rate, 
with  all  its  fearful  consequences,  would  be  erased 
from  its  horrible  prominence  in  the  list  of  our  na- 
tional sins.  I  have  but  touched,  )'ou  will  observe, 
on  the  mere  surface  of  the  subject.  I  could  show 
you,  if  time  allowed — show  you  by  proofs  the  most 


58  Total  Abstinence 

startling:,   flic    most    irrefragable — that  the  liquor 
traffic  stands  in  the  very  fore'Vont  of  responsibility 
for  the  alarming  amount   of  hmacy,  of  pauperism, 
of  crime,  and  that  without  this  liquor  traffic  England 
would  be  unspeakably  different  froni  what  now  it  is 
— unspeakably  more  prosperous  at  home — unspeak- 
ably more   honored  abroad — than  it  ever  has  been, 
or  ever  can  be,  while  the  liquor  traffic  maintains  its 
present  immense  and  truly  deplorable  ascendency. 
To  me  it  seems,  gentlemen,  that  there  is  only  one 
remedy  which  can  indefinitely  prolong  the  national 
glory  of  Englantl  ;  there  is  but  one  resource  which 
can  counteract  the  dangers  which  threaten  us  from 
the  pressure   of  life,   the  depression  of  trade,  the 
growth  of  a  deeply-seated  discontent  ;  that  there 
is    but   one  way   to  diminish  the  ghastly  total  of 
crime,  to  close   two-thirds  of    our    prisons,   two- 
thirds   of  our   asylums,   two-thirds    of  our  work- 
houses ;  and  that  remedy,  that  resource,  that  way 
is,  that  instead  of  continuing  to  be  a  drunken,  we 
should  become  a  sober  and  temperate  nation;  and 
in  the    present    distress,  amid  the  present   perils, 
with  the  present  repeated  refusals  of  the  Legisla- 
ture to  interfere  with  the  scandalous  multiplication 
of  temptations,  there  is  but  one  way  by  which  we 
can  ever  become  a  sober  and  temperate  nation,  and 
that  is  by  the  immense,  the  voluntary,  the  all  but 
universal  spread  of  total  abstinence.     The  day  may 
return — God  grant  it,  and  it  is  very  far  Cfif  as  yet 
—when  the  present  peril  and  the  present  distress 
are  over,  and  England,  shamed  into  decency  and 
startled  into  repentance,  may  indulge,  if  it  be  an 
indulgence,  and   if  she  must    indulge   in    the   fer- 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         59 

merited  juice  of  the  grape,  without  one  word  of 
warning;  but  that  day  is  not  yet,  and,  meanwhile, 
do  not  be  deceived  into  easy  self-satisfaction,  by  a 
mere  talking  about  rose-water  remedies  which  be- 
come practically  an  excuse  for  simply  doing  no- 
thing. People  solemnly  tell  us  that  we  must  not 
iij^ht  drunkenness,  but  must  give  the  poor  higher 
amusements,  better  houses,  more  education,  and  so 
make  them  sober.  Gentlemen,  I  have  seen  some- 
thing of  the  poor,  and  I  tell  you  emphatically  that 
n  our  present  state  of  things,  these  remedies  vvill 
not  diminish  drunkenness.  No  one  can  desire  more 
ardently  than  I  do,  that  all  this  should  be  done ;  no 
one  feels  more  indignantly  than  I  do  the  selfish 
apathy  of  rich  men,  who  draw  rents  from  filthy 
houses  where  the  poor  are  huddled  together  like 
swine ;  no  one  can  believe  more  entirely  than  I  do 
that  in  general,  more  education  means  less  vice. 
But  I  say,  first  diminish  drunkenness  and  then  try 
these  remedies,  or  you  will  be  utterly  defeated  : 

"  What,  have  ye  let  the  fond  enchanter  'scape  ? 
Oh,  ye  mistook  !  ye  should  have  snatch'd  his  wand 
And  bound  him  fast.     Without  his  rod  reversed. 
And  backward  mutters  of  dissevering  power, 
We  can  not  free  the  lady,  who  sits  here 
In  stony  fetters  fixed  and  motionless  !  " 

And  this,  gentlemen, — total  abstinence — this  is  the 
snatched  wand,  the  rod  reversed,  the  backward 
mutters  of  dissevering  power.  Without  this,  all 
the  boons  you  give  to  the  poorer  class  will  be 
turned  gradually  into  banes  ;  with  it  the  boons  will 
come,  and  come  far  more  effectually  of  themselves. 
As  drunkenness  has  already  turned  into  a  bane  the 


6o  Total  Abstinence 

boon  of  better  wages  and  more  frequent  holidays, 
BO  it  would  soon  turn  your  better  houses  into 
Kcenes  of  degradation,  and  fill  your  places  of  amuse- 
ment with  reeling  sots.  Make  the  working-classes 
sober,  as  our  Legislature,  and  our  upper  classes  if 
they  were  utterly  in  earnest  might  do;  induce 
tlicm  to  give  up  the  horrible  waste  of  drink  and 
drunkenness;  and  you  may  depend  upon  it  that 
the  other  boons  would  come  spontaneously — that 
the  working-classes  would  very  soon  provide  the 
better  houses,  and  higher  amusements,  and  more 
education  for  themselves.  And  this  is  emphatically 
the  work,  emphatically  the  reform  which  this  age 
has  to  achieve  ;  and,  for  those  at  any  rate  who  work 
among  the  poor,  total  abstinence  is  the  only  way  to 
do  it.  If  the  clergyman  takes  his  glass  of  sherry, 
on  pica  of  fatigue  or  exhaustion,  you  may  depend 
upon  it  that  the  working-man  will  go  on  the  same 
pretext  to  the  publican  tor  i)is  glass  of  gin  ;  and  if 
he  reads  his  Shakespeare,  he  will  say  to  the  clergy- 
man, who  wants  to  win  him  from  drukenness: 

"  But,  good  my  brother, 
Do  not  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do, 
Point  me  the  steep  and  stormy  path  to  heaven  ; 
While,  like  a  puffed  and  reckless  libertine. 
Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads, 
And  recks  not  his  own  rede." 

Gentlemen,  our  fathers  had  to  go  to  the  stake  foi 
freedom  of  conscience,  and  to  shed  their  blood  for 
civil  liberty,  and  to  bear  obloquy  in  founding  -mis- 
sions, and  reforming  prisons,  and  furthering  educa- 
tion, and  purging  England  from  the  infamies  of  the 
slave  trade.     What  we  have  to  do,  what  this  ago 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others.         6 1 

has  to  do,  what  every  brave  and  true  and  good 
man  in  this  generation  has  to  do,  is  to  save 
England  from  the  stain  and  shame,  from  the 
curse  and  ruin  of  drunkenness,  a  curse  far 
deadlier  than  that  of  neglected  prisons,  far 
deadlier  than  that  of  injured  slaves.  Will  you 
do  it?  or  will  you  make  the  great  refusal?  If  you 
have  to  bear  a  httle  blatant  ridicule  in  doing  it,  so 
much  the  better.  If  the  people  who  extol  the 
cheap  and  easy  virtues  of  imbibing  beer  and  wine, 
pity  you  from  the  heights  of  their  serene  supe- 
riority— tell  them  that  this  sort  of  virtue,  which  con- 
sists in  doing  what  we  like,  because  we  like  it,  is 
one  which  can  never  mount  to  the  height  of  your 
disdain.  Gentlemen,  no  reform  worth  having  was 
ever  carried  except  in  the  teeth  of  clenched  antag- 
onists ;  and  most  reformers,  though  we  build  statues 
to  them  now,  have  had  to 

"  Stand  pilloried  on  infamy's  high  stage, 
And  bear  the  pelting  scorn  of  half  an  age. " 

And  those  who  carry,  or  who  help  to  carry,  this  re 
form — they  too,  will  live  in  the  grateful  recollectior 
of  posterity.  The  name  of  Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson 
will  be  honored,  when  those  of  half  our  little  poli- 
ticians sleep  in  the  dust  of  Hansard.  The  names  of 
Canon  Ellison  and  Canon  Hopkins  will  be  remem- 
bered when  half  the  fuglemen  of  our  petty  schisms 
are  consigned  to  fortunate  oblivion.  The  name  of 
Dr.  Richardson  will  be  honored  when  the  place  of 
a  hundred  fashionable  physicians  knows  them 
no  more.  Not  for  one  moment  do  I — I,  a  late  con- 
vert, whose  attention  was  lately  aroused  to  this 


62  Total  Abstinence 

question  by  a  short  experience  of  work  nmoti;^  the 
London  poor — prcsutnc  to  pluck  the  most  withiitci 
leaf  of  that  civic  pjarland  which  ob  cives  sent%toi 
these  gentlemen  have  so  richly  deserved;  but  will 
not  some  of  you,  who  are  young,  arrav  yourselves 
in  this  great  cause — continue  this  great  battle — 
take  the  places  of  us  who  already  "think  with  a 
diminished  lire,  and  speak  with  a  diminished 
force?" 

"  Exoriarc  aliquis  nostris  ex  os-ibus  ultor." 

It  may  be  the  fate  of  some  of  you  to  die  before 
you  have  ever  really,  or  in  any  high  sense  lived  ; 
some  of  you  may  become  cynics  in  thought,  and 
pessimists  in  morals,  and  spend  pernicious  lives  in 
trying — though  you  might  as  well  try  (o  throw 
dust  at  heaven  and  stain  it — in  trying  to  ridicule 
the  faith  and  the  aims  of  the  saints  of  God  ;  some 
of  you  may  sell  your  souls  for  vulgar  successes, 
and  pitch  your  tents  on  the  dead  levels  of  selfish 
respectability,  or  the  sluggish  flats  of  base  content ; 
but,  oh,  will  none  of  you.  sweeping  aside  the 
wretched  sophisms  which  infest  this  question,  see 
that  sacrifice,  born  not  for  self,  but  for  others,  is  al- 
ways sacred  ;  and  will  you  not,  for  the  sake  of  the  so- 
lidarity of  man,  give  yourselves  to  that  high  task 
of  social  ameli.)ration  of  which  this  is  the  most 
pressing  and  the  most  important  element?  "////," 
says  the  linitatio  Christi,  '*  ///;  si4nt  vcre  fidelcs  tut 
qui  totas  vitas  suns  ad  emendationcm  disponunt^'  and 
surely  the  ancndatio  of  God's  noblest  nation  is  a 
work  even  more  sacred  than  the  cvundatio  of  our- 
selves.    And  at  present  there  is  no  other  way  so 


For  the  Sake  of  Ourselves  and  Others  6"^ 

brief,  so  essential,  so  emphatic,  as  to  show  what 
you  think  by  example  as  well  as  by  precept,  and 
by  giving  up  what  is  at  the  very  best  an  infinitesi- 
mal advantage  to  take  your  part  against  an  infinite 
calamity.  Your  doing  so  may  cause  a  laugh  ;  it 
may  bring  on  you  a  sneer  at  a  dinner-party  ;  but, 
if  you  be  still  young,  it  may  save  you,  personally, 
from  a  degrading  peril ;  and  it  will  pledge  you  per- 
sonally to  a  glorious  cause.  Many  will  tell  you 
that  the  plan  is  Quixotic,  Utopian,  hopeless.  These, 
gentlemen,  are  missiles  of  commonplace  launched 
from  the  catapults  of  selfishness,  and  I  have  gener- 
ally observed  that  the  cause  at  which  they  are 
leveled  is  generally  a  good  cause,  and  almost  al- 
ways a  cause  which  at  last  has  won.  But,  at  any 
rate,  this  I  do  say  from  the  very  deepest  convic- 
tion,  that  if  this  be  a  hopeless  cause,  then  the  cause 
of  England  is  hopeless;  and  if  this  be  a  losing  bat- 
tle, then  the  battle  of  England  too  is  lost.  But  I 
prophesy  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  cause  which 
will  triumph,  and  a  battle  which  shall  be  won. 
Give  us  the  impetuosity  of  your  youth ;  give  us 
the  glow  of  your  enthusiasm;  give  us  the  fresh- 
ness of  your  lives.  Remember  that  the  heroes  and 
the  demigods  were  they  who  rid  the  earth  of  mon- 
sters ;  think  of  the  monsters  against  which  you 
nave  to  fight;  the  miseries  from  which  you  have 
to  deliver;  the  multitudes  which  you  have  to  con- 
vince; the  banded  interests  which  you  must  help 
to  overthrow.  There,  in  your  sight,  lies  the  dark 
tower  of  vice  and  prejudice  which  you  have  to 
storm,  "  the  round  squat  turret  blind  as  the  fool's 
heart."     God  give  some  of  you  grace  to  help  in 


64  Total  Abstinence. 

the  storm  of  it,  were  it  ten  times  as  imprcc^nnblc  as 
it  is!  Many  have  died  in  the  apparently  forlorn 
hope  of  its  assault;  but  I  will  trust  that  there  may 
even  now  be  siltin*:^,  listenin*^,  among^  you,  one  who 
Avill  yet  live  to  do  it,  and  will,  in  a  far  less  danger- 
ous cause,  make  his  vow  in  the  spirit  of  the  young 
knight  in  the  great  poem,  surrounded  by  the  phaii. 
loms  of  the  lost  adventurers,  his  peers: 

"  There  they  stood,  ranged  along  the  hill-side — set. 
To  see  the  last  of  me — a  living  tiame 
For  one  more  picture.     In  a  sheet  of  flame 
I  saw  them,  and  I  knew  them  all  ;  and  yet 
Dauntless  the  slughorn  to  my  lips  I  set. 
And  blew  '  Childc  Kuland  to  the  dark  tower  came.' 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  NAZARITE. 

By  the  Rev,  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


'  And  I  raised  up  of  your  sons  for  prophets,  and  of  your  young 
men  for  Nazarites.  Is  it  not  even  thus,  O  ye  children  of  Is- 
rael ?  saith  the  Lord.  But  ye  gave  the  Nazarites  wine  to 
drink ;  and  commanded  the  prophets,  saying.  Prophesy  not." 
— Ajhos  2:11,  12. 

Amos  was  called  from  very  lowly  toils  to  preach 
God's  word  to  the  kingdom  of  Israel  at  a  time 
when,  in  spite  of  one  last  gleam  of  delusive  splen- 
dor under  Jeroboam  II.,  it  was  fast  sinking  into 
that  condition  of  degradation  and  decrepitude 
which  ended — as  end  the  crimes  of  all  impenitent 
nations — in  its  total  and  irremediable  extinction 
Poor  he  was,  and  ignorant,  agrammatos  kai  iaiotes, 
as  were  the  Apostles  after  him  ;  and,  as  a  cure  for 
false  scorn  and  fastidious  intellectualism,  it  is  well 
for  us  to  remember  that  such  have  many  of  God's 
grandest  champions  been.  But  though  Amos  was 
neither  a  prophet  nor  a  prophet's  son,  but  a  rough 
herdsnan  and  unlettered  gatherer  of  sycamore 
leaves,  he  was  one  of  those  masculine,  indignant 


66  The  Vow  of  tfu  Nazarite. 

natures,  which  burst,  like  imprisoned  flame 
throuf^h  the  white  ashes  of  social  hypocrisy.  Pre 
pared  like  the  Maccabees  of  old  to  die  in  his  sim 
plicity,  he  was  not  afraid  to  roll  God's  message  of 
nninder  over  apostate  nations,  and  hurl  the  flash 
Df  his  threateninj^s  aji^ainst  guilty  kings.  Like 
Samuel  before  Saul,  like  Iilijah  before  Ahab,  like 
John  the  Baptist  before  Herod,  like  Paul  before 
lelix,  like  John  Huss  before  Sigismund,  like  Lu- 
llur  before  Charles  V.,  like  John  Knox  before 
Mary  Stuart,  like  the  saints  of  (iod  in  all  ages, 
whose  characteristic  has  ever  been  the  battle-brunt, 
which — 

Though  a  cloud. 
Not  of  war  only,  but  detractions  rude, 
Guided  by  faith  and  matchless  fortitude 
To  peace  and  truth  its  glorious  way  hath  flowed  ; 
And,  on  the  ncck  of  crowned  fortune  proud, 
Tl.ith  reared  God's  trophies,  and  his  work  pursued — 

SO  Amos  testified  undaunted  before  the  idolatry  of 
courts  and  priests.  Now,  one  crime  of  that  bad 
period — the  crime  of  all  bad  periods,  and  the  type 
of  a  hundred  other  crimes  t(j  which,  alike  in  its 
origin  and  its  develo|)ments,  it  is  allied — was  lux- 
ury and  intemperance.  And  in  this  verse  the 
prophet  confronts  Israel  with  the  high  appeal  of 
God,  whether  he  had  not  put  the  fire  of  his  Spirit 
into  the  hearts  of  some  of  their  sons,  and  they  had 
quenched  that  fire  by  their  blandishments  and  con- 
ventionalities ;  and  whether  he  had  not  inspired 
some  of  their  youths  to  take  the  vow  of  absti- 
nence, and  they,  with  the  deliberate  cynicism  of 
worldlings,  had  tempted  them  to  scorn  and  break 
that   vow  ?     Translated    into  strictly   modern  Ian. 


The  Voiv  of  the  Nazarite.  6"/ 

guage,  the  verse  would  run  :  "  To  protest  againgt 
the  effeminacies  of  self-indulgence  I  gave  you 
preachers  ;  to  rouse  you  from  the  surfeit  of  intem- 
perance, I  enrolled  your  sons  as  abstainers.  My 
preachers  you  silenced  by  your  godless  sophisms, 
my  young  abstainers  you  seduced  by  your  ensnar- 
ing wiles." 

That  this  is  a  strict  paraphrase  you  may  judge 
for  yourselves  by  reading  in  the  sixth  chapter  of 
Numbers  the  vow  of  the  Nazarite.  You  will  see 
theie  that  the  very  essence  of  it  was  self-dedica- 
tion. The  young  Nazarite  consecrated  himself  to 
God;  he  offered  himself — his  soul  and  body — a  rea- 
sonable, holy,  and  living  sacrifice.  His  long  hair, 
on  which  razor  never  passed,  was  a  symbol  of  his 
royal  service.  In  sign  of  spotless  purity  he  was 
never  to  touch  a  dead  body,  were  it  even  his  fa- 
ther's corpse.  As  a  mark  of  the  tranquil  sovereignty 
of  his  will  over  the  lower  appetites  and  passions 
of  his  nature,  he  was  to  separate  himself  so  abso- 
lutely from  all  wine  or  strong  drink,  nay,  from  all 
semblt  nee  of  fermented  liquor  (which,  though  men 
are  specially  fond  of  calling  it  a  good  creature  of 
God,  is  a  product  not  of  life,  but  of  death,  not  of 
nature,  but  of  corruption,  not  of  composition,  but 
of  decomposition)  that  he  was  to  taste  nothing 
made  fi^om  the  vine  tree,  from  the  kernels  even  to 
the  husks.  And  from  this  passage  of  Amos,  as 
well  as  from  the  taunt  of  the  Pharisees  against 
John  the  Baptist  that  "  he  had  a  devil,"  we  see  that 
the  Nazarite  was  a  marked  man ;  and  that,  because 
his  vow  was  regarded  as  a  tacit  condemnation  of 
the  popular  self-indulgence,  he  was  exposed  to  the 
jineeis  of  the  worldly  and  the  temptations  of  the 


68  The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite. 

base.     Nevertheless,  Wisdom  was  justified  of  her 
children. 

Let  him  who  will,  spread  and  shift  the  silken  sail 
Df  cowardice  to  woo  every  veering  breeze  of  ap- 
plause and  popularity  ;  but  may  every  younp^  man 
anions^  you  who  hears  me  —  every  youth  who 
wishes  to  be  worth  his  salt — make  up  his  mind 
that  insolent  detraction  is  very  often  in  this  world 
the  noblest  testimonial  of  worth,  and  the  coarse 
dispraise  of  corrupted  worldlinj^s  and  professional 
slanderers  is  the  very  loftiest  of  eulojjics.  The 
best  men,  the  bravest  men,  and  the  least  conven- 
tional men  in  the  world  have  been  ever  the  most 
loudly  and  the  most  scornfully  abused  ;  and,  while 
the  workl  gives  to  its  pestilent  and  trailing  bram- 
bles the  sovereignty  over  its  forest  trees,  gladly 
and  proudly  may  the  braver  souls  leave  the  bespat- 
tcrment  of  profuse  approval  to  the  shrinking  cau- 
tion that  loves  to  trudge  on  the  sunny  side,  along 
the  beaten  track  of  selfishness,  over  the  dull,  dead 
levels  of  conventionality  and  comfort.  Little 
recked  the  true  Nazarite  of  muttered  sarcasm,  of 
bitter  hate — little,  as  recks  the  sea  of  the  foolish 
wild  birds  that  scream  above  it.  Health,  strength, 
physical  beauty,  wholesomeness  of  life,  tranquillity 
of  soul,  serene  dominion  over  evil  passions,  fol- 
lowed in  the  path  of  early  and  life-long  abstinence. 
Not  theirs  to  wail,  Vino  forma  perit,  vino  consitmitur 
aetas,  as  wailed  the  young  Roman  poet,  who,  like 
better  men  than  he,  have  degraded  thenisclves  into 
premature  decrepitude;  but,  as  Jeremiah  sang 
about  the  days  of  Zion  in  her  glory,  "  Her  Naza- 
rites  were  purer  than  snow;  they  were  whiter  than 
Qiilk ;  they  were  inorc  ruddy  iri  body  than  rubies; 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  69 

their  polishing  was  of  sapphires."  Not  theirs  the 
tottering  gait  of  the  drunkard,  or  the  shaking  hand 
of  the  debauchee  ;  not  theirs  the  brazen  impudence 
of  the  shameless,  or  the  hangdog  misery  of  the  re- 
morseful ;  but  theirs  the  strength  which  is  the  child 
of  temperance,  and  the  beauty  which  is  the  sacra- 
ment of  goodness.  Such  was  Joseph,  twice  in  the 
Hebrew  called  a  Nazarite,  who,  to  strengthen  for- 
ever the  high  purpose  of  the  young  and  tempted, 
uttered  the  glowing  protest  of  youthful  innocence  : 
"  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness  and  sin 
against  God?"  Such  was  Samuel,  for  a  nation's 
deliverance  consecrated  from  childhood  to  hal- 
lowed service.  Such  was  Elijah,  the  "lord  of 
hair,"  the  wild  Bedav»^y  prophet,  who  made  Jeze- 
bel quail  before  him,  for  all  her  painted  face  and 
bloody  hands.  Such  was  John  the  Baptist,  emerg- 
ing from  the  wilderness,  where  his  soul  had  caught 
a  touch  of  flame,  to  make  the  Pharisee  blush 
under  his  broad  phylactery,  and  shake  the  pulses 
of  the  tyrant  on  his  throne.  Such  was  James,  the 
first  bishop  of  Jerusalem,  with  his  robe  of  fine 
white  linen,  and  knees  hard  with  kneeling,  and 
prayers  which  seemed  to  the  people  to  open  and 
shut  the. doors  of  heaven.  Such,  in  varying  de- 
grees, was  Antony,  Boniface,  Bernard,  Francis  of 
Assisi,  Milton,  Wesley,  Lacordaire.  There  seems 
to  be  a  special  strength,  a  special  blessing,  above 
all  a  special  power  of  swaying  the  souls  of  others 
or  their  good,  which  is  imparted  to  wise  and  vol- 
untary abstinence.  The  hands  of  invisible  conse- 
cration overshadow,  the  fire  of  a  spiritual  unction 
crowns  the  head  of  him — and,  above  all,  the  head 
of  him  who  in  early  youth  has  learned  to  sav  with 


70  The  Vmv  of  the  Nazarile. 

his  whole  heart:  "In  stronf]^  warfare,  in  holy  sclt 
denial,  I  dedicate  my  youth  to  God."  And  such 
we  want;  wc  want  them  amongst  the  youth  of  En- 
gland ;  and,  in  proportion  as  wc  get  them,  will  En- 
gland sink  or  rise.  Wc  want,  very  specially  just 
now,  this  almost  scornful  rejection  of  self-indidg- 
ence ;  this  deliberate  determination  to  plain  living 
and  higli  thinkinij^  in  the  young.  We  do  not  want 
those  whom  thcv  call  the  ""gilded  youth" — the 
fluttering  butterflies  of  the  season — the  dandies, 
and  the  gcssipers,  and  the  pleasure-seekers,  who 
niake  their  lives  deservedly  wretched  because  they 
make  them  dcliberatclv  base,  and  to  whom  wc 
might  say,  in  the  words  of  the  poet: 

"  Ah,  what  avails  to  understand 

The  merits  of  a  spotless  shirt, 
A  dapper  boot,  a  Uttle  hand. 

If  half  the  little  soul  l>e  dirt  ?  " 

Nor  do  we  want  those  beardless  atheists  who,  with 
the  crude  smattering  of  a  second-hand  skepticism, 
can  not  only  demolish  with  one  flash  of  their  splen- 
difl  intellect,  and  set  aside  with  one  wave  of  their 
contemptuous  hands  the  truths  which,  till  yester- 
day, a  Faraday  and  a  Whewcll  preached,  but  who, 
wiser  than  the  aged  in  their  own  conceit,  even 
re\el  in  the  airs  of  disdain  with  which  they  can  in- 
sult as  dupes  or  hypocrites  the  saints  of  God,  the 
very  latchet  of  whose  shoes  they  are  not  worthy  to 
stoop  down  and  unloose.  Nor,  again,  do  we  want 
the  youths  of  coarse  fiber  and  vacant  heart  who,  in 
the  first  treasons  of  a  spurious  liberty,  court  the 
temptations  which  they  should  shun  like  the  pesti- 
lence, and,  knowing  well  God's  doom  on  drunken- 
ness and  lust,  yet  go  as  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  and 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  7 1 

as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks.  Nor  do 
we  want  an}^  be  they  men  or  be  they  women,  who 
do  but  take  their  license  to  the  fields  of  time,  heed- 
less of  the  degradation  that  follows  them,  heedless 
that  they  are  but  adding  blackness  to  earth's  dark- 
ness by  their  wasted  livcSv  But  we  do  want — the 
world  wants,  this  age  wants,  England  wants,  the 
Church  of  Christ  wants,  God  wants — those  who. 
self-dedicated  like  the  ideal  Nazarite  to  noble  ends, 
have  not  lost  the  natural  grace  and  bloom  of  youth- 
ful modesty.  We  do  want  natures  strong,  and 
sweet,  and  simple,  to  whom  life  is  no  poor  collec- 
tion of  fragments,  its  first  volume  an  obscene  and 
noisy  jest-book,  its  last  a  grim  tragedy  or  a  des- 
picable farce,  but  those  to  whom,  however  small  the 
stage,  life  is  a  regal  drama,  played  out  before  the  eyes 
of  God  and  men.  We  do  want  souls,  fresh  and  vir- 
ginal, dowered  with  the  hate  of  hate  and  scorn  of 
scorn  against  oppression  and  selfishness,  and  the  love 
of  love  for  all  that  is  pure,  and  generous,  and  true  ; 
souls  that  shall  say— seeing  that  life  is  short,  and  the 
fame  of  virtue  immortal — 1  choose,  God  helping  me, 
the  narrow,  the  uphillward  path,  up  which  before 
me  my  Saviour  bore  the  cross  ;  and  not  wishing  to 
exchange  for  one  of  earth's  cankered  roses  its  hal- 
lowed thorns,  let  false  friends  discountenance,  let 
the  worldly  persecute,  let  fools  deride,  but  mutare 
aut  timere  sperno — I  scorn  either  to  change  or 
fear. 

2.  Well,  then,  in  one  word,  we  want  the  spirit  of 
willing  Nazarites  ;  and  since  total  abstinence  was 
the  central  conception  o  the  vow  of  the  Nazarite 
— whije  I  am  not  at  all  astonished  that  selfish  Sad- 
ducees   or  corrupted    Hellenists   shou'id    hate  and 


72  The  Vorv  of  the  Nazarite. 

scoff  at  it — it  is  to  me  amazing  and  portentous  that 
even  some  good   and    true  men    should   represent 
such  self-denial  (ii  it  can  be  called  a  self-denial)  as 
Manich;\}an,  as  unscriptural,  as  a  mark  of  inferiority, 
as  I   know  not  what.     I    have  no  time,  and   in  this 
pulpit  it  should  be  surely  needless  to  shatter  each 
of  these  sophisms  to  atoms,  and  dash  it  indignantly 
aside  as  one  more   instance   in  which — as   in  order 
to  defend  polygamy,  and   the  Inquisition,  and   pau- 
]>erism,  and  the  siaye-trade,  and  the  suppression  of 
science,  ami    the  obstacles   to  discovery,  and   the 
deification  of  ignorance  and  "the   right  divine  of 
kings  to  govern   wrong" — the  devil,  substituting 
the  fetish  worship  of  the  dead  letter  for  the  fire  of 
the  living  spirit — has,  as  though  a  man  should  use 
a  medicine  as  a  poison,  and  the  light  of  the  I'haraohs 
for  a  wrecker's  reef,  quoted  Scripture  for  his  pur- 
pose, and  made  it  the  cloak  of  superstition  and  the 
shield   of  wrong.      Vet,  let  me  say  at  once,  that  I 
am  not  going  to  be  guilty  of  the  dictatorial    Phari- 
saism which  says  to  any  man,  Vou  are  committing 
a  sin  if  ycu  do  not  take  to  total  abstinence.     That 
I  do  not  say;  even  in  this  age  of  bronze  lacquer 
and    impudent    personalities  in   which    nothing    is 
more  common  than  willful  calumny,  let    no  one  at- 
tribute to  me  that  language;  but  what  I  do  say  to 
every  one  of  you — and   if  the  subject  be  entirely 
new  to  this  pulpit  I  say  it  all  the  more,  and  most  of 
nil,  I  say  it   if  it  shall  shock  in  any  that  epicurean 
self-satisfaction  which   is  utterly  fatal   to  all  noble 
life— I  do  say  to  every  one  of  you,  and   I  say  it 
fearlessly   and    downrightly  in   God's   name,   that 
you  are  bound  in  the  best  way  you  can — bound  in 
the  sight  of  God — bound  as  a  Christian — bound  as 


The  Vo'M  of  the  Nazarite.  73 

a   p£(triot — bound    as  an  ordinarily  good  man — to 
go   up,   every  one  of  you,  before  the   tribunal  of 
your  own  consciences,  and,  whether  you  be  famil- 
iar with   tliem  or  unfamiliar,  to  lay  very  solemnly 
to  heart  the  stern  facts  which   I  shall  try  to  brand 
upon   your  memories   to-day.      The  Universities, 
thank  God,  have   awaked  from    the  dead,  sensual 
sleep  of  the  eighteenth   century  ;  the  old  type  of 
College   Fellows,  vegetating  for  life  in  vapid  and 
useless  luxury,  is  utterly  extinct;  even  from  among 
Undergraduates,  though   there  be  perhaps  among 
them  less  of  the  modesty  and  respect  for  the  elders, 
and    gratitude   for   kindness,    which    were    virtues 
which    still   existed    in    the   days  of  their   fathers, 
there    has   yet,   I    hope,  utterly  vanished    the   old 
coaree  type  of  ignorant  and  dissolute  idlers.  It  was 
but  the  other  day  (a  thing  which   even  ten  years 
ago   would  have  been  utterly  impossible),  that,  at 
Oxford,  the  Sheldonian  Theater  was  used,  and  the 
Vice-Chancellor  presided  at  a  thing  once  deemed 
so  vulgar  and  plebeian  as  a  temperance  meeting,  at 
■which  some  of  the  leading  professors  spoke  ;  and 
Cambridge  is  taking  her  part,  and  taking  it  right 
nobly,  in  the  great  battle  between   Ebal  and  Ger- 
izim,    light   and    darkness,    heaven    and    hell ;  and 
hundreds,    I    hope   and    I    believe,   of    her   manly 
youths  are  daily  learning  more  and   more  in  the 
light  of   shining  examples,  to  scorn  delights  and 
love   labors,  in  the   high  endeavor  "  to  make  earth 
like  heaven  and  every  man  like  God."  And  if  there 
be  but  one  here  who  cares  only  to  sleep  and  feed, 
and  steep  himself  in  the  gross  mud-honey  of  a  sen- 
sual life;  if  there  be  but  one  who  does  not  care  to 
do  God'?  work,  or  to  help  His  children,  or  to  make 


74  The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite. 

belter  His  sin-devastated  world— to  him  I  speak  not; 
but  to  all  you  the  rest  I  say  that,  acknowledging  as 
you  do  the  law  of  charity,  it  is  not  charity  merely 
to  toss  to  human  suffering  the  crumbs  of  your 
superfluity,  but  to  probe  its  causes,  to  anticipate,  to 
avert  them. 

It  is  a  characteristic — a  very  fine  and  redeeming 
characteristic — of  this  age,  that  all  who  dare  to 
call  themselves  Christians  are  thoroughly  in  car- 
nest  ;  thoroughly,  and  more  wisely,  and  more  sys- 
tematically, and  less  despairingly  in  earnest  than 
of  old.  in  the  work  of  social  amelioration  ;  but  yet, 
mainly  because  there  is  here,  there  is  at  our  doors, 
there  is  in  the  very  midst  of  us,  an  evil  colossal 
and  horrible — an  evil  with  which,  to  its  utter  shame, 
the  State  has  not  yet  dared  to  grapple — the  evil,  I 
mean,  of  universal  drinking  and  imiversal  drunken- 
ness— not  only  has  much  of  all  this  vast  charitable 
effort  been  wholly  insignificant  for  good,  but  some 
of  it  has  been  absolutely  powerful  for  harm,  increas- 
ing the  evils  which  it  wished  to  alleviate,  and  per- 
petuating the  miseries  which  it  desired  to  relieve. 
And,  in  the  hearing  of  some  of  you  in  whose 
hands  shall  be  the  future  of  England,  who  will  live 
to  fill  her  pulpits,  to  write  her  literature,  to  make 
her  laws,  and  who  will,  I  hope,  be  eager  in  helping 
to  tear  away  this  poisoned  robe  which  has  been 
maddening  the  blood  of  her  country — I  say,  with 
all  the  emphasis  of  a  conviction  not  hastily  or 
rashly  formed,  that  not  only  are  our  best  agencies 
of  mercy  neutralized  by  this  one  vice  of  intcmper 
ance,  but  that  all  these  agencies,  concentrated  into 
their  most  effective  vigor,  would  do  less — infinitely 
le^s— good  than  could  be  done  by  the  expuls'on  o( 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  "Ji 

this  one  preventable  cause  of  vice  and  misciy. 
Called  by  the  providence  of  God  from  the  brightness 
of  a  life  spent  at  one  of  our  great  public  schools  to 
face  the  repellant  squalor  of  London  pauperism, 
that  has  been  brought  home  to  me  b_y  vivid  per- 
sonal experience.  But  I  do  not  ask  you — you,  in 
your  learned  culture  and  cloistered  calm — T,  who 
am  but  a  London  clerg)mian,  with  no  leisure  what- 
ever to  be  a  student,  do  not  ask  you  for  one  mo- 
ment to  accept  on  my  poor  authority  a  dictum,  for 
which,  if  time  permitted,  I  could  simply  overwhelm 
you  with  irresistible  evidence — evidence  which,  in 
spite  of  disdain,  and  in  spite  of  struggle,  should 
arrest  ^omv  attention,  and  fetter  and  rivet  to  the 
rock  of  conviction  even  him  among  you  to  whom 
this  topic  Js  most  distasteful.  ''Every  day's  ex- 
perience tends  more  and  more  to  confirm  me  in  the 
opinion  that  the  temperance  cause  hes  at  the  foun- 
dation of  all  social  and  political  reform."  Those  are 
not  mine,  but  the  weighty  words  of  the  calm,  wise 
statesman,  Richard  Cobden.  "  Every  benevolent 
institution  utters  the  same  complaint.  A  monster 
obstacle  is  in  our  way.  Strong  drink— by  what- 
ever name  the  demon  is  styled,  in  whatsoever  way 
it  presents  itself— this,  this  prevents  our  success. 
Remove  this  one  obstacle  and  our  cause  will  be 
onward,  and  our  labors  will  be  blessed."  Those 
words  are  not  mine,  they  are  the  massive  eloquence 
of  Mr.  John  Bright.  "  We  are  convinced  that,  if  a 
statesman  who  desired  to  do  the  utmost  for  his 
country  were  thoughtfully  to  inquire  which  of  the 
topics  of  the  day  deserves  the  most  intense  lorce 
of  his  attention,  the  true  reply— the  reply  which 
would   be  exacted  by  due  deliberation— would  be 


76  The  Voxv  of  the  Nasarite. 

that  he  should  study  the  means  by  which  this  worst 
of  j)ln'^ucs  should  be  stayed."  Those  arc  the 
words  of  the  late  thoughtful  and  lamented  Charles 
Buxton.  "  Profligacy,  vice,  and  immorality  are 
not  thundering  at  our  gates  like  a  besieging  army, 
but  they  are  undermining  the  very  ground  on 
which  we  stand."  Those  words,  so  deep  in  their 
pathos,  arc  yet  the  utterance  of  the  genial  and  be- 
loved Lord  Palmerston.  "  Let  us  crush  these 
artists  in  human  slaughter,  who  have  reconciled 
their  country  to  sickness  and  ruin,  and  spread  over 
the  pitfalls  of  debauchery  such  a  bait  as  can  not  be 
resisted."  In  such  stern  words  spoke,  more  than 
one  hundred  years  ago,  the  worldly  and  polished 
Chestei  field.  Arc  not  such  statements  from  such 
men — undeniable,  uncontradicted,  nay,  even  un- 
challenired  as  thev  are — at  least  enough  to  waken 
the  deep  slumber  of  a  decided  opinion,  even  if  they 
be  not  enough  to  break  down  the  clenched  antag- 
onism of  ail  iii\  incible  prejudice,  or  to  dispel  the 
stupid  selfishness  of  an  incurable  frivolity  .''  They 
are  not  the  words  of  men  at  whom  you  can  sneer 
as  crochcty  politicians  or  tetnperance  fanatics,  or 
whom  the  very  best  of  you  all  in  his  own  estima- 
tion can  set  aside  with  a  disparagement  or  demolish 
with  a  gibe.  The  very  cleverest  of  youthful  grad- 
uates, or  even  of  undergraduates,  can  ncjt  quite  stab 
these  men  with  an  epigram,  or  refute  them — as 
fops  refuted  Berkeley — with  a  grin.  To  sneer  at 
these  would  be  to  condemn  yourselves  as  incapable  ; 
these  not  to  know  would  argue  yourselves  unknown 
And  yet  these  are  but  a  few  of  many  such  warn 
ings  uttered  by  some  of  the  best,  greatest,  wisest 
in  the  land  ;  and  you  ought  not,  you  must  not,  you 
Burcly  dare  not,  to  ignore  them. 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  77 

3.  But,  if  these  be  not  enough,  I  will  add  some- 
thing- more.  Taking  alcohol  as  a  convenient  ge- 
neric name  for  the  specific  element  in  all  kinds  of  in- 
toxicating drink,  I  will  ask  you  to  look  with  me  for 
a  moment  at  what  it  is  not,  and  at  what  it  is,  and  at 
what  it  costs.  It  used  to  be  believed  that  alcohol 
was  a  food.  It  is  now  conclusively  demonstrated 
(and  when  I  say  "  conclusively  demonstrated,"  I 
ask  you  to  believe  that  I  mean,  in  the  most  literal 
sense,  conclusively  demonstrated)  that  it  is  not 
food ;  that  it  contains  not  one  single  element — 
whether  nitrogenous  or  hydro-carbonic — of  food  , 
and  that,  is  one  of  the  first  of  modern  chemists  has 
said,  there  is,  in  nine  quarts  of  alcohol,  less  food 
than  can  be  spread  on  the  end  of  a  table  knife. 
Nor  is  it  a  source  of  strength.  For,  alike  in  Africa 
and  India,  in  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic,  and  by 
/reat  labor  employers  in  the  temperate  zones,  ana 
by  distinct  experiments  with  navvies  in  gangs  and 
soldiers  on  the  march,  it  is  matter  of  proof  that 
those  can  labor  best,  both  ph)^sicall3'-  and  mentally, 
in  Vv'hom  the  cold  is  not  intensified  by  the  weaken- 
ing reaction  from  artificial  stimulant,  and  in  whom 
the  sun's  fierceness  has  "  no  alcoholic  ally  within 
the  brain."  Nor  is  it  a  source  of  JicaltJi ;  for  the 
lives  of  total  abstainers  are  now  known  to  be  more 
valuable  in  an  insurance  than  other  lives,  and  not  a 
few  very  eminent  living  physicians  have  testified 
that  the  daily  use  of  it,  even  in  quantities  convene 
tionally  deemed  moderate,  not  onl}^  "  causes  some 
of  the  most  fearful  and  dangerous  maladies,"  but 
even  "  injures  the  body  and  diminishes  the  mental 
powers,  to  an  extent  of  which  few  people  are 
aware."     Least  of  all,  then,  is  it  a  necessity,  seeing 


78  The  V<nv  of  the  Niizarite. 

that  it  has  been  happily  unknown  to  whole  races, 
and  prohibited  by  immense  religions,  and,  in  En- 
gland alone,  3,000.000  of  total  abstainers,  of  whom 
not  one  has  ever  repented,  can  testify  that  since 
they  abandoned  it,  they,  like  the  Nazarites  of  old, 
have  been  clearer  of  brain  and  more  strong  ot 
limb,  more  vigorous  in  health,  and  more  calm  in 
happiness.  I  miij^ht  go  on  to  any  extent  with  such 
evidence ;  and  on  the  faith  of  it,  and  on  the  yet 
stronger  faith  of  daily  experience,  I  again  assert, 
not  as  a  dubious  theory,  but  as  an  established  fact, 
that  to  men  in  ordinary  health  alcohol  is  not  a  food, 
nor  a  necessity,  nor  a  source  of  health,  nor  of 
warmth,  nor  of  physical  strength,  least  of  all  of 
mental  power,  but  that,  when  it  is  not  a  potent 
medicine,  it  is  a  mere  luxury — a  luxury  which  is  at 
the  best  harmless,  but  which  is  frequently  danger- 
ous;  sometimes  fatal;  always  quite  su[)crfluous; 
never  particularly  noble. 

4.  Let  us  understand,  then,  well,  my  brethren,  al 
cohol  is  a  luxury,  and  nothing  but  a  luxury  ;  and 
if,  being  healthy,  we  indulge  in  it  at  all,  it  is  not  be- 
cause we  need  it,  but  because  we  like  it.  Well,  and 
this  being  so,  what  does  this  luxury  cost  ?  At  what 
expense  does  the  nation,  as  a  nation,  gratify  its  lik- 
ing? I  will  tell  you.  It  costs  us  in  tillage  the  waste 
of  millions  of  acres  of  soil;  in  food,  the  destruction 
of  millions  of  tons  of  grain  ;  in  hard  casli,  the  dele- 
terious absorption  of  millions  of  pounds  of  money. 
It  is,  beyond  all  question,  the  one  main,  if  not  the 
sole  cause  of  the  squalid,  degrading,  and  danger- 
ous pauperism  against  which  some  of  you  will 
hav3  to  struggle  hereafter  in  the  streets  of  London 
and  other  great  cities  ;  and  in  the  middle  classes 


772!^  Vozv  of  the  Nazarite 


79 


who  have  often  to  strive  so  hard,  you  would  be 
surprised  if  I  could  show  you  how  much  they 
might  yearlv  save  by  this  abstinence  alone.  And 
though  that  is  something — though  it  is  a  consid- 
eration not  to  be  despised  by  youths  who  will  soon 
have  to  make  their  way,  with  dail}^  increasing  diffi- 
culty, amid  the  hard  competitions  of  an  over- 
crowded population — and  though  it  will  help  them 
very  materially  in  the  stern  battle  of  life  to  have 
acquired  simple  and  self-denying  habits,  yet  all 
this  saving  to  individuals,  all  this  saving  to  the  na- 
tion of  yearly  increasing  millions  of  pounds,  which 
would  make  it  not  only  more  wealthy,  but  also 
more  prosperous  by  incalculable  advantages,  is  the 
least  important  point.  "  Tanto  opere,  tanto  labore  et 
impcndio  constat  quod  Jiominis  meiitcm  viiitet  ac  fo- 
rorem  gignat,  niillibns  huic  sceleri  deditis,"  said  the 
elder  Pliny,  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago ;  and  it 
is  now  more  true  a  thousand  times.  In  any  other 
connection  you  would  think  this  vast  expenditure, 
this  colossal  waste,  a  consideration  of  overwhelm- 
ing importance,  yet  in  this  it  is  the  ver}-  smallest 
element  in  the  question.  Of  far  deeper,  of  far 
more  awful  significance,  is  what  it  costs  in  disease, 
what  it  costs  in  crime,  what  it  costs  in  misery,  what 
it  costs  to  the  glory  of  England  now,  and  the  hopes 
of  England's  generations  for  years  to  come.  I  have 
no  time,  I  have  no  heart  to  tell  you  all  that  could 
be  told  under  this  head.  I  entreat  you  not  to  turn 
impatiently  from  it;  nay,  I  tell  you  plainly,  you 
have  no  right  to  turn  impatiently  from  it.  For  the 
drinking  of  some  means  inevitably,  as  things  are, 
the  drunkenness  of  many  ;  and  these  who  sin,  these 
who  suffer,  these  who  die,  are  our  own  flesh  and 


So  The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite. 

blood.  I  believe  that  there  is  scarcely  one  family 
in  EnL;land  which  has  not  siiflfcred  from  this  hide- 
ous plague  ;  scarce  a  house  in  Enjj^land  where  there 
is  not  one  dead.  And.  oh  !  "  is  it  nothing^  to  you, 
all  ye  that  pass  by?"  You  have  heard  what  drink 
costs  to  this  nation  in  money  ;  what  does  it  cost  in 
disease  and  accident?  Ask  the  dreary  pap^cs  of 
statistics,  and  you  will  read  that  in  so-called  acci- 
dent, but  accident  perfectly  preventable,  it  cost  us 
broken  limbs  and  shipwrecked  vessels,  and  burned 
houses,  and  shattered  railwav  trains,  and  the  deaths 
of  children  overlaid  by  drunken  mothers  or  beaten 
savaj^ely  by  drunken  lathers;  and  to  tell  you  what 
it  costs  in  disease,  I  should  have  to  take  you,  not  in 
fancy,  but  in  hard  fact,  to  what  the  poet  saw  as  the 
result  of  intemperance  in  meats  and  drinks: 

"  A  lazarhouse  it  seemed,  wherein  were  laid 
Numbers  of  all  diseases — all  maladies, 
Of  ghastly  spasm  and  racking  torture  :  qualms 
Of  heartsick  agony  ;  all  feverous  kinds  — 
Dropsies,  and  asthmas,  and  heart-racking  rheum. 
Dire  was  the  tossing,  deep  the  groans ;  despair 
Tended  the  sick  busiest  from  couch  to  couch. 
And  over  them,  triumphant.  Death  his  dart 
Shook — but  delayed  to  strike." 

This  is  what  those  who  claim  to  speak  with  authority 
tell  us  it  costs  in  sheer  disease;  and  which  of  you 
is  so  ie^norant  of  English  history,  of  English  litera- 
ture.  of  English  life,  as  not  to  know  further  of  no- 
blest reputations  stained,  of  glorious  intellects 
ruined,  of  great  souls  embittered,  of  invaluable 
lives  cut  short?  And  what  does  it  cost  in  cri.nef 
I  will  tell  you,  not  as  a  surmise  of  my  own,  but  on 
Uie  recorded  testimony,  on  the  emphatic  evidence 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  8 1 

of  almost  every  judge  and  magistrate  and  recorder 
on  the  English  bench.  Remember  that  those  ar- 
resited  for  drunkenness  do  not  furnish  one  tithe  of 
the  drunkards,  and  then  shudder  to  hear  that,  in  a 
single  year,  203,989  were  arrested  for  crimes  in 
which  drunkenness  was  entered  as  a  part  of  the 
charge;  and  that  last  year  5,131  women — only 
think  of  that,  and  of  all  the  hideous  degradation, 
all  the  unspeakable  horror  which  it  implies! — were 
arrested  for  drunkenness  in  Middlesex  alone.  In 
every  province,  in  every  count}',  in  every  great  city 
of  the  United  Kingdom,  it  has  been  stated  from  the 
seat  of  justice ^gain  and  again  that,  but  for  drunk- 
enness, there  would  not  be  in  England  one-tenth  of 
the  existing  crime.  It  is  getting  a  hideous  com- 
monplace of  judges.  Only  ten  days  ago  Lord  Col- 
eridge said  at  Durham  that,  but  for  drink,  we  might 
shut  up  nine-tenths  of  our  gaols.  Last  week  was 
brought  up  before  Mr.  Justice  Manisty,  at  Man- 
chester, a  wretched  creature  in  man's  semblance, 
who,  as  though  he  were  worse  than  a  natural  brute 
beast  made  to  be  taken  and  destroyed,  had  brutally 
kicked  to  death  a  wife  far  advanced  in  pregnancy  ; 
and  the  judge  in  sentencing  him  to  the  gallows 
said  :  "  You  have  been  found  guilty  of  the  crime  ol 
willful  murder,  your  victim  being  your  own  wife. 
You  are  a  sad,  sad  instance  of  the  consequences  of 
indulging  in  drink,  which  has  brought  you  to  this 
fearful  condition.  It  is  only  owing  to  God's  mercy 
that  this  has  not  brought  many,  many  more  into  a 
similar  case.  I  am  afraid  that  if  this  vice  continues 
to  be  indulged  in  as  it  now  is,  many  more  will 
stand  in  a  like  position  to  you.  Oh  that  we  could, 
by  administering  the  law,  put  an  end  to  it!  "     Ah, 


$2  The  Vow  of  the  Nasarite. 

he  might  well  say  that !     But  dare  you   blink   at 
such  testimony  ?     Do  you  think  that  they  say  such 
things  rashly  ?     And  if  you  will  not   listen   lo  the 
reiterated  warnings  of  the  judges  in  their  ermine, 
will  you  listen    to   the    noble-hearted    missionaries 
who  tell  us  what  drink  costs  to  the  glory  of   En 
gland  in  the  execration  of  her  name  over  whole  con- 
tinents,  and   the   ruin   of  her  elTorts  among  whole 
populations?      Could    I    summon    the    Maorics    ot 
New  Zealand,  once  so  healthy  that  you  might  smite 
a  man  with  a  broad-axe  and  in  a  few  days  he  would 
be  well,   now,   in   the  language  of  a   high   govern- 
ment official,  "almost  as  bad  as  the  Knglish,  pollu- 
ted and  contaminated  by  thicr  drink" — what  would 
they  say?    If  I  could  summon  the  Indians  of  North 
America,  once  not  unhappy,  now  degraded,  mad- 
dened, exterminated    by  our  accursed   fire-water, 
what   would   they  say?     They  have   said   that  be 
cause  of  it  they  spit  at  the  name  of  Christian.     It 
we  ask  the  Mohammedans,  what  do  they  say?     Is 
there   a  Christian   in    England   with  conscience  so 
dead,  with   heart  so  rough,  with  cheek  so  brazen, 
as  not  to  blush  when  he  hears  that,  if  they  see  one 
of  their  number  drunk  they  have  been  heard  to 
say,  "  He  has  left  Mohamet  and  gone  to  Jesus."    If 
we  ask  the  Hindoos,  what  do  they  say  ?    They  have 
said  by  the  lips  of  their  eloquent  representative, 
Kcshub  Chunder  Sen,  that  all  the  splendid  benefits 
of  our  English  rule  in  India  have  been  nullified  and 
counterbalanced  by  our  teaching  them  the  use  of 
beer  and  brandy  ;  that  the  wailing  of  widows  rends 
the  air  of  India  with  curses  against  the  British  Gov- 
ernment for    having   introduced  this  thing.     And 
again,  from  the  Southern  Sea,  the  voice  of  yet  an- 


The  Vow  of  the  Nazarite.  83 

other  missionary  says  to  us:  "  If  you  love  missions, 
work,  help — help  to  dethrone  this  demon  of  intem- 
perance, our  reproof  before  the  heathen,  the  blight 
of  our  infant  churches."  And  oh,  sirs,  when  )^ou 
hear  such  things,  are  we  not — we,  the  sons  of  free, 
proud,  glorious  England — are  we  not,  to  our  burn- 
*ng  infamy,  what  one  has  called  us,  the  drunken 
Helots  of  the  world  ? 

So  much,  then,  for  money  and  disease  and  crime 
and  colonization  ;  and  what  does  drink  cost  in  hu- 
man misery?  Have  you  hearts?  if  you  have,  1 
might  say — 

"  Sit  you  clown, 
And  I  will  wring  your  heart,  for  so  I  shall 
If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuff: 
If  damned  custom  hath  not  brazed  it  so, 
That  it  is  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense." 

But,  ah!  I  have  no  tongue  to  utter,  no  imaginati'?n 
to  conceive,  no  calculus  to  measure  the  immensity 
of  this  national  curse,  this  national  calamity.  It 
would  require  the  vision  of  the  Angels  of  Record, 
if  they  can  gaze  on  it  with  eyes  unblinded  by  such 
tears  as  angels  weep,  to  tell  of  those  miseries  of 
millions  for  centuries;  "to  pass  as  it  were  from 
chamber  to  chamber  of  the  prophet's  vision  of 
abomination,  and  to  mark  the  crime  in  every  form 
the  vice  in  every  shape,  the  disease  in  every  aspect 
that  can  make  disease  horrible,"  that  ha'j  been 
caused  by  the  corrupted  fruit  of  this  Tree  of  the 
Knowledge  of  Evil.  He  alone  whose  ears  are  open 
to  the  lion's  roar  and  the  raven's  cry,  can  catch  the 
numberless  accents  of  that  wail  of  incurable  an- 
guish and  uncontrollable  despair  which  has  stream- 
ed upwards  for  generations,  till  the  vault  of  heaven 


84  T}u  Vow  of  the  Nazarite. 

has  become  "  one  vast  whispering  gallery  to  pro- 
long and  reverberate  the  groans  of  those  who  have 
slain  their  own  peace  by  this  voluntary  empoison- 
ment."  He  alone,  by  whom  the  hairs  of  our  head 
arc  all  numbered,  can  count  the  widows  who  arc 
ividows  beacause  of  drink;  the  matlmcn  who  are 
/nad  because  of  it ;  the  gray  heads  that  it  has  made 
gray  ;  the  sad  hearts  that  it  has  crushed  with  sad- 
ness ;  the  ruined  families  that  it  ha»  ruined;  the 
brilliant  minds  which  it  has  quenched;  the  unfold- 
ing promise  which  it  has  cankered  ;  the  bright  and 
happy  boys  and  girls  whom  it  has  blasted  into 
shame  and  misery  ;  the  young  and  the  gifted  which 
it  has  hurried  along  into  dishonored  and  nameless 
graves. 

Is  it  not  Shakespeare  himself  who  says  by  the 
mouth  of  his  disgraced  and  ruined  Cassio,  '*  O  thou 
invisible  spirit  of  wine,  if  thou  hast  no  name  to  be 
known  by.  let  us  call  thee  Devil  I "  What  does 
drink  cost  in  human  misery?  Ah!  how  can  I  tell 
you?  Can  I  count  the  leaves  of  the  forest  or  the 
sands  upon  the  shore?  And  the  sounds  of  this 
misery  are  like  the  sighing  of  the  leaves  of  illimit- 
able forests,  and  the  plashing  on  the  shores  of  un- 
fathomable seas.  He  alone  whose  ear  is  ever  open 
to  the  cry  of  the  poor  and  destitute  can  hear  the 
wailing  of  that  multitude  of  miserable,  miserable 
women  who,  taking  in  despair  to  the  drink  which 
their  husbands  have  taught  them,  get  degradingly 
content  with  the  starving  squalor  which  they  call 
their  homes — can  hear  the  poor  wretch  who  has 
vainly  followed  her  drunken  tyrant  to  the  public- 
house  moan  in  agonies  of  entreaty,  "Come  home! 
come  home!"  or  see  her  watching  and  waiting  in 


Tiie  Voxv  of  the  Nazarite.  85 

that  foul  mocker}-  of  a  home, -till  the  sot  rolls  back 
at  midnight,  and  with  his  brains  all  en  fire  with 
that  vitriol  madness,  lifts  ag-ainst  her  unprotected 
womanhood  his  cowardly  and  brutal  hand,  "till 
the  filthy  b3--lane  rings  to  the  yell  of  the  trampled 
wife" — ah  !  I  can  not  go  on,  and  you — you  can  not 
bear  to  hear  of  these  things  ;  3'et  these  things  are, 
and  worse — if  there  be  wor:e — than  these  ;  and 
Ihough  you  may,  if  you  please,  lay  a  flattering  unc- 
tion to  3'our  consciences,  and  call  this  rhetoric  or 
call  it  exaggeration,  it  is  just  the  plain,  barj.  hide- 
ous truth  ;  and  while  you  shrink  from  thes3  things 
in  words,  are  3'our  sympathies  so  slothful  that  you 
do  not  shrink  from  them  in  realit}*?  Oh  that  I 
could  harrow  up  into  a  little  manliness  those  deli- 
cate sensibilities!  Oh  that  I  could  \.\\  \]\  that  hor- 
ror into  action,  those  tastes  which,  like  those  of  an 
insect,  "  feel  the  shaking  of  the  table  and  do  not 
feel  the  thunder  I  "  For  it  is  the  horrible  fact  that 
the  drink  which  we  as  a  nation  are  drinking,  not 
from  the  necessities  of  thirst,  but  from  the  mere 
luxuries  of  appetite,  drink  often  adulterated  with 
the  vilest  and  most  maddening  ingredients — yes, 
this  rubied  and  Circean  cup  which  we  sip  and 
smile  while  it  is  converting  thousands  of  our 
brethren  into  swine — this  subtle,  serpentine,  insidi- 
ous thing  which  we  cherish  in  our  bosoms,  and 
laugh  and  play  with  its  brightness  while  it  is  sting- 
ing thousands  of  our  brothers  into  raging  madness 
— costs  us,  as  I  have  shown,  millions  of  money, 
mynads  of  criminals,  thousands  of  paupers,  thou- 
sr.nds  of  ruined  women,  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
men  and  women  goaded  by  misery  info  suicide  or 
madness,  with  every  blossom  in  what  might  have 


i6  The  Voiv  of  the  Nazarite. 

been  the  p^arland  of  their  lives  blighted  as  by  a 
Fury's  breath.  And  aj^^ain  I  soy:  "Is  it  nothing 
to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  ? ''  Is  it  nothinfr  to  you, 
young  men,  who,  if  you  be  worth  anything  at  all, 
better  than  to  cumber  the  barren  ground  of  wasted 
and  useless  lives,  will  be  called  upon  a  year  or  two 
hence  to  take  up  your  cross,  and  the  mirth  and 
brightness  of  youth  being  ended,  to  take  your  hap- 
py and  holy  part  when  God  shall  place  you  in  the 
ranks  of  the  great  battle  against  sin  and  death  ; 
shall  it  be  nothing  to  you  that  the  blood  of  your 
brothers  and  sisters  in  this  great  family  of  God  is 
being  daily  poured  upon  the  altars  of  this  deadlier 
Moloch  of  a  Tophet  more  awful  than  that  of  Ilin- 
nom'sVale;  while  in  disavowing  that  you  arc  your 
brother's  keeper,  you  become  his  Cain  ? 

Aye,  and  are  we  to  go  on  for  another  generation 
with  our  8,500  public-houses  in  London  only,  and 
see  another  generation  of  our  country's  children 
grow  up  amid  the  same  dangers  and  the  same 
temptations,  exposed  like  a  defenseless  prey  to 
these  evil  spirits,  nay,  even  transmitting  that  awful 
hereditary  craving  which  shall  leave  to  yet  another 
generation  for  all  their  lives  the  reality  of  intense 
temptation,  the  possibilities  of  terrible  catastrophe? 
Even  if  every  one  of  you  be  individually  aiife 
(whereas  what  I  feel  sure  of  is,  that,  without  the 
grace  of  God  sought  in  earnest  prayer,  not  one  of 
us  is  safe  at  any  time,  not  one  of  us  is  safe  from 
anything ;)  but  even  if  you  be  quite  sure  that  you 
will  never  fall  unawares  in  love  with  this  tamed 
viper,  which  may  seem  a  bright  and  harmless  creat- 
ure of  God,  until,  as,  alas  !  too  many  of  the  strong 
and    the    gifted   and   the   noble    who    have    beep 


The  Voiv  of  the  Nazarite.  87 

wounded   by  it   can    testify,  at   some   moment  of 
deep  misery  or  crushing  disappointment  it  slides 
into  the  soul  with  tempting  whisper  or  rixcs  in  the 
heart  its  envenomed  fang  ;  even  if  3'ou  be  person- 
ally safe  from   this  destroyer  of  all  health  and  vir- 
tue, this  breeder  of  all  sickness  and  sin,  will  you  do 
•nothing  for — will  you  think  nothing  of— those  myr- 
iads and    multitudes  to  whom   this  drink    means 
orutality  and  degradation,  disease  and  death  ?     If 
so — if  you  hear  with  callous  indifference — nay,  with 
contemptuous  dislike — nay,  with  angry  repugnance 
— what   you    have   heard   to-day — as   though,  for- 
sooth, some  rude,  untutored  voice   broke  in   upon 
your  balanced  serenity — then,  by  all  means,  as  far 
as    I    am    concerned,    insult   the    speaker   to   your 
heart's  content;  eat,  drink,  and   be  merry;  go  up 
to  Ramoth   Gilead  and    prosper.     But  il",  indeed, 
you  do   not  care  to  do  anything — not  even  to  lift 
one  finger  to  save  this  our  England  from  this  living 
death — then  stand  aside  from  among  us,  and  do  not 
call  yourself  a  philanthropist,  do  not  call  yourself 
a  Christian.     It  may  not  be  your  duty — I  have  not 
said,  I  do  not  say  that  it  is — to  take  any  pledge  of 
total  abstinence  as  the  amulet  of  a  hallowed  pur 
pose,  or  the  safeguard  of  a  strengthened  youth,  or 
the  outward  sign  that  you,  too,  will  take  your  part, 
now  and  hereafter,  in  this  great  struggle  between 
heaven  and  hell ;  but  if  you  do  not  feel  called  upon 
to  do  this,  at  least  respect  and   honor  the  motives 
of    those    who,  in   special  positions,    and    because 
of    special    duties,  think    that    in    doing    it    they 
have  obeyed   their  country's  and    their   Saviour's 
call ;  and  that,  in  the  strength  of  heaven,  and   for 
the  sake  of  Christ  and  Christ's  perishing  little  ones, 


88 


The  Vow  of  t/u  Nazaritc. 


they  have  been  called  upon  to  act  in  the  spirit  of 
the  liijjh  lanjjuagc  of  St.  I'aul :  "  I  will  neither  eat 
flesh  nor  drink  wine,  nor  anythinjj  whereby  tny 
brother  stumblcth,  or  is  offended,  or  is  made 
Aealc  " 


THE   VOW  OF  THE  RECHABITES. 

By  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S, 


"  And  I  said  unto  them,  Drink  ye  wine.  But  they  said,  Wc 
will  drink  no  wine  :  for  Jonadab  the  son  of  Rechab  our  father 
commanded  us,  saying,  Ye  shall  drink  no  wine,  neither  ye,  nor 
your  sons  for  ever." — Jer.  xxxv.,  part  of  5,  6. 

Intertwined  with  the  history  of  Israel  is  that  of 
a  wild  and  independent  tribe  of  Kenites,  descended 
from  Hobab,  the  brother-in-law  of  Moses  When 
the  western  Israehtes  abandoned  the  roving-  Arab 
life  to  settle  in  the  cities  of  Canaan,  the  Kenites 
still  retained  their  pastoral  habits.  One  of  the 
characteristics  which  we  trace  in  their  history,  was 
a  fierce  resentment  against  oppression  and  idolatry. 
It  was  a  Kenite  woman,  Jael,  who  smote  Sisera 
even  in  her  own  tent.  It  was  a  Kenite  Sheykh,  Jona- 
dab, the  son  of  Rechab,  who  washed  his  fierce 
hands  in  the  blood  of  Baal's  worshippers  and 
Ahab's  house. 

The  free  and  eager  air  of  the  desert  had  passed 
into  their  lives;  and,  compared  with  the  settled 
Jews,  they  were  as  the  Bedowecn  to  the  Fellaheen 
of  modern  Palestine.  And  this  fierce  and  hardy 
life  was  so  dear  to  them,  that  they  determined 
never  to  abandon  it ;  strengthened  in  their  resolve 
when  they  saw  the  nations  amongst  whom  they 
lived  degenerating  more  and  more  into  luxury  and 
corruption.     The  son  of  Rechab  would  never  have 


po  The   J'cnc'  of  the  Rccliubites. 

mounted  with  Jehu  into  his  chariot,  and  joined  ia 
massacre  after  massacre  to  show  his  zeal  for  the 
Lord,  if  he  had  not  lonij  observed  how  the  subtle 
intoxication  of  Phoenician  art  and  I'hoenician  mor- 
als was  passinf^  like  poison  into  the  blood  of  the 
Northern  Kins^doms;  how  the  whoredoms  of  Jeze- 
bel, and  her  witchcrafts  at  once  fascinated  and  de- 
praved a  God-ft)rf^etting  race  ;  how  the  weak  and 
uxorious  Ahab  was  gilding  with  royal  favor  the 
legalized  abominations  of  Baalim  and  Ashtaroth. 
And  it  was  the  grief  and  indignation  at  such  grow- 
ing wickedness,  which  found  its  wiser  outcome  in 
this  everlasting  interdict  which  he  laid  upon  his 
descendants,  that  they  should  drink  no  wine,  and 
sow  no  corn,  and  dwell  in  no  houses,  and  so  keep 
themselves  uncontaminated  from  the  eflfeminacy 
which  otherwise,  like  a  creeping  paralysis,  might 
taint  their  healthful  blood. 

It  is  an  incident  from  the  life  of  these  descend- 
ants, more  than  two  centuries  afterwards,  which 
occupies  the  first  lesson  of  this  evening's  service. 

The  gradual  and  victorious  approach  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar and  the  Babylonians  had  alarmed  all 
Judea.  At  last  the  battle  of  Carchemish  had  made 
him  master  of  the  advances  to  the  country,  and,  in 
alarm  lest  they  should  be  trampled  on  by  his  tri- 
umphant progress,  these  children  of  the  desert  were 
forced,  for  a  time,  into  what  to  them  was  the  odious 
shelter  of  a  walled  city.  And  here,  while  they 
were  fretting  for  the  old  free  life,  their  black  tents 
pitched  in  the  open  spaces  of  Jerusalem,  became 
centres  of  curious  observation.  Amid  a  popula- 
tion given  to  excess  and  gluttony,  it  was  natural 


The  Vow  of  the  Rechabitcs.  91 

that  their  total  abstinence  should  attract  special 
attention,  and  Jeremiah  received  a  Divine  intima- 
tion to  teach  from  their  obedience  an  eternal  les- 
son. 

Inviting  these  rude  and  faithful  Bedoween  into  a 
chamber  of  the  Temple,  he  gave  them  the  invita- 
,ion  to  which  the  bold  wassailers  of  his  nation 
would  so  heartil)'  have  responded,  "  Drink  ye  wine," 
But  the  Rechabites  were  not  to  be  tempted.  They 
had  adopted  the  hereditary  law  of  temperance  on 
the  bidding  of  a  mighty  ancestor,  as  a  protection 
against  the  temptations  of  cities.  They  continued 
it  because  conscience  approved,  and  health  re- 
warded a  noble  choice.  Had  they  broken  their 
rule  once,  they  well  knew  that  the  tendency  would 
be  to  break  it  twice  and  thrice;  and  that  if  they 
broke  it  at  the  bidding  of  social  com.plaisance,  some 
at  least  of  their  number  might  soon  be  led  to  break 
it  at  the  bidding  of  personal  temptation.  Plainly, 
therefore,  and  bluntly  came  the  answer,  "  We  will 
drink  no  wine :  for  Jonadab  the  son  of  Rechab, 
commanded  us,  saying,  Ye  shall  drink  no  wine, 
neither  ye,  nor  your  sons  for  ever." 

Admiring  their  high  and  unshaken  resolve,  the 
prophet  sadly  and  indignantly  contrasted  their  per- 
fect obedience  to  this  single  injunction  of  their 
father,  with  the  perpetual  disobedience — the  per- 
sistant defiance  of  Israel  to  God's  repeated  en- 
couragements and  reiterated  laws ;  and  he  was 
then  commissioned  to  pronounce  a  judgment  on  his 
sinful  countrymen,  and  the  blessing  of  God's  ap- 
proval on  the  whole  house  of  Jonadab  the  son  of 
Rechab  for  ever. 


Q2  The   Vow  of  the  Rcchabites. 

You  will  sec  then,  at  once,  that  God  distinctly 
sanctioned,  emphatically  rewarded,  this  vow  which 
the  Rechabites  had  made  as  a  living  protest  aj^^ainst 
the  sins  and  perils  of  a  corrupt  and  evil  age  ;  and 
you  will  see  at  once  the  subject  which  it  forces  upon 
our  notice.  I  have  not  chosen  that  subject ;  I  have 
not  even  desired  it.  It  is  thrust  up(jn  us  by  the 
lesson  for  the  day  ;  and  since  it  is  thus  thrust  upon 
us,  I  ask  vour  attention  to  it  as  Christians,  as  citi- 
zens, as  men.  Let  no  one  think  that  the  subject 
does  not  concern  him.  It  concerns  the  most  tem- 
perate hardly  less  than  the  most  intemperate.  It 
concerns  both  men  and  women,  both  old  and  young. 
It  aflccts  all  who  arc  not  utterly  absorbed  in  selfish- 
ness; all  who  have  the  interests  of  the  nation  and 
their  race  at  heart.  And  in  speaking  of  it  I  shall 
make  no  disputable  statement ;  I  shall  use  no  exag- 
gerated expression  ;  I  shall  indulge  in  no  rhetorical 
amplitude;  I  shall  wilfully  offend  no  reasonable 
prejudice.  I  shall  use,  God  helping  me,  the  Ian. 
guagc  which,  however  dark  the  coloring  that  facts 
may  lend  to  it,  is  vet  the  language  of  absolute 
soberness  and  simple  truth  ;  but  here,  in  this  cen^ 
tral  city  of  the  world's  greatest  kingdom — here,  in 
this  abbey,  connected  by  so  many  centuries  with 
all  that  England  boasts  of  worthiest  and  best — I 
will  ask,  nay,  I  will  claim,  in  the  name  of  God  and 
your  country,  your  calm,  solemn,  unbiassed  atten- 
tion, to  conditions  which  it  is  sinful  to  neglect  and 
selfish  to  ignore.  And  if  there  be  any  here  whose 
interests  seem  to  be  imperilled,  whose  prejudices 
are  already  in  arms,  it  is  their  attention  most  of  all 
that — and  not  with   language  of  unsympathy,  not 


The  Vow  of  the  Rechabites.  93 

in  the  lone  of  denunciation,  but  as  a  friend,  and  as 
a  minister  of  God,  in  all  brotherly  kindness,  and 
with  all  consideration  and  courtesy — I  would  most 
earnestly  desire. 

Is  there  not  then,  I  would  ask  you,  some  special, 
some  national  need  in  the  circumstances  of  this  age, 
that  we  should  take  well  to  heart  the  vow  and  ex 
ample  recorded  in  this  evening's  lesson  ?  If  I  were 
to  tell  you  that  there  is,  in  the  British  Isles,  a  Being 
into  whose  treasuries  are  annually  poured  in  un- 
productive consumption  more  than  140  millions  of 
our  national  wealth  ;  whose  actions  crush  year  by- 
year  more  victims  than  have  been  crushed  for  cen- 
turies together  by  the  car  of  Juggernaut ;  whose 
unchecked  power  causes  year  by  year  horrors  in- 
comparably more  multitudinous  than  those  which 
have  recently  thrilled  our  souls  with  pity  and  in- 
dignation ;  if  I  were  to  say  that  the  services  wrought 
by  this  Being  were,  if  any  at  all,  which  is  an  open 
question,  yet  almost  valueless  in  kind,  and  infinitesi- 
mal in  extent,  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  direct 
admitted  indisputable  miseries  he  inflicts  were  ter- 
rible in  virulence  and  vast  in  ramification  ;  if  I  were 
to  say  that  at  His  right  hand  and  His  left,  as  eager 
and  ever  active  ministers,  stood  idiocy  and  pauper- 
ism, degradation,  and  brutality ;  and  at  that  point 
you  were  all  to  rise  up  at  once  and  cry  aloud, 
"  Tell  us  the  name  of  this  Being,  that  we  may  drive 
him  with  execration  from  the  midst  of  us,  and  that 
every  one  of  us  may  be  a  Jehu  and  a  Jonadab,  to 
extirpate  his  power  and  expel  his  polluting  foot- 
steps from  our  soil ;  "  and  I  were  to  say  that,  far 
from  doing  this,  we  all  as  a  nation,  and  nearly  all 


94  77/<-   l^o-u'  of  tite  Rechabites. 

of  us  as  individuals,  crown  him  with  garlands, 
honor  him  with  social  customs,  introduce  him  into 
gladdest  gatherings,  sing  songs  in  his  glory,  build 
myriads  of  temples  to  his  service,  familiarise  our 
very  children  with  his  fame  and  praise;  were  I  to 
say  this,  then,  sentence  by  sentence,  clause  by 
clause,  word  by  word,  it  would  be  literally  true, 
not  of  a  man,  but  of  a  thing,  and  that  thing,  in'toxi 
GATING  drink! 

The  devotion  to  it,  as  every  one  knows  who 
knows  anything  about  his  country,  is  the  besetting 
sin  of  the  nation  ;  and,  so  far  from  trying  to  check 
this  besetting  sin,  we  encourage,  we  render  attrac- 
tive, we  protect,  we  indefinitely  multiply,  we  thrust 
at  every  step  before  those  whom  it  is  most  likely  to 
destroy,  innumerable  temj>tations  to  it ;  and  this  we 
do,  and  continue  to  do,  though  we  know  that  so 
difficult  is  it  ft^r  the  poor,  even  when  ihcy  wish  to 
keep  aloof  from  it;  so  subtle,  rapid,  fatal,  enslav- 
ing is  the  horrible  fascination  of  it,  that  a  man  often 
becomes  a  drunkard  almost  before  he  sees  the 
awfiilness  of  his  peril ;  and  when  once  he  is  a  drunk- 
ard, most  often  he  is  Lurried  all  down  hill  with  fatal 
rapidity  into  incurable  ruin  of  body,  mind,  and 
soul.  Can  we  then  wonder  that,  more  and  more, 
by  common  confession  (a  confession,  alas!  how 
humiliating,  of  a  fact  how  notorious)  the  national 
vice  of  Great  Britain  is  drunkenness*?  Not  one 
day  passes  without  our  witnessing  its  terrible  rav- 
ages. To  the  ruin  it  engenders,  all  alike  bear  wit- 
ness. From  the  Army,  from  the  Navy,  from  great 
cities,  from  country  villages,  from  the  police,  from 
guardians  of  the  poor,  from   manufacturers,    from 


The   Voiv  of  the  Rechabitcs.  95 

merchants,  from  all  large  employers  of  labor,  from 
physicians,  from  judges,  from  the  clergy  of  every 
denomination,  and  most  often  and  most  bitterly 
from  the  working  men  themselves,  come  pouring 
in  the  accumulated  testimonies — emphatic,  heart- 
rending, unmistakable,  reiterated — to  the  preval- 
ence, to  the  increase,  to  the  deadliness  of  this  de- 
grading sin.  Do  you  who  are  rich  and  respectable 
— you  who,  shut  up  in  your  stately  houses  or  quiet 
homes,  know  nothing  of  this,  and  therefore,  nursing 
in  some  delicious  stillness  your  dainty  loves  and 
slothful  sympathies,  hear  it  with  indifference  or 
impatience?  If  you  would  know  what  drunken- 
ness is,  if  you  would  learn  what  cause  there  is  to 
lift  up  the  voice  respecting  it,  leave  your  ease  ;  do 
not  be  afraid  for  once  to  sicken  your  sensibilities; 
do  not  be  afraid  to  soil  your  robes.  See  women, 
or  what  had  once  been  those  gracious  beings, 
shrieking,  fighting,  blaspheming,  pawning  the  very 
shawls  off  their  backs,  and  the  ver}^  bed  on  which 
their  children  lie.  Watch  the  poor,  ragged,  ema- 
ciated drunkard, — lost  to  health,  lost  to  respecta- 
bility, lost  to  shame — reeling  from  the  counter 
where  he  has  over  and  over  again  shamefully 
squandered  what  might  have  kept  himself  and  his 
family  in  comfort  and  independence.  Follow  him, 
at  least  in  imagination,  to  the  chronic  and  squalid 
misery  of  that  bare,  foul  room,  which  might  have 
been  a  home.  See  his  children  fly  from  him  terror- 
stricken,  and  huddle  away  out  of  sight  in  the  cor- 
ner, in  the  street,  anywhere.  See  his  wife — but  the 
picture,  though  infinitely  less  than  the  reality,  is 
too   horrible;  and  you   may   see  this  almost  any- 


g6  The   Voiv  of  the  Rcc habit es. 

where :  you  may  see  it  almost  any  clay ;  and  when 
you  have  seen  it,  you  will  know  at  last  why  the 
hearts  of  thousands  sink  within  them  as  they  con- 
template this  standinp^  shame,  this  clinging  curse, 
this  eating  canker  of  our  prosperity  and  of  our  life. 
For  one  moment,  as  briefly  as  possible,  let  us 
merely  glance  at  the  results  of  this  destroying  sin. 
First,  there  is  ivastc.  This  is  the  very  least  of  its 
evils,  yet  you  may  estimate  what  it  is  when  you 
hear  that  this  vast  unproductive  drain  on  the  na- 
tional resources  would,  in  a  few  years,  pay  the 
whole  National  Debt.  'Wxqvq.xs physical  degeneracy, 
making  the  lives  of  myriads  a  burden,  defacing  the 
proud  image  of  God  into  that  of  wretches  with 
blear  eyes,  shattered  nerves,  and  palsied  limbs. 
There  is  pauperism — pauperism  which,  owing  to 
this  potent  and  blighting  sorcery,  df)es  but  drag 
down  the  working  classes  by  the  very  cfTi^rts,  the 
shortened  hours,  the  higher  wages  intended  for 
their  improvement.  There  is  disease  in  every  form 
of  shattered  accident,  and  raving  delirium,  and 
sudden  death.     There  is  brutal  violence. 

"  When  the  ntriol  madness  flashes  up  in  the  ruffian's  brain, 
And  the  filthy  by-lane  rings  with  the  yell  of  his  trampled  wife.' 

There  is  the  powcrlcssness  of  the  Church  to 
counteract  the  frenzy ing  temptation  of  the  gin- 
shop.  There  is  the  frustration  of  effort  after  effort 
to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  poor.  There  is 
the  neutralisation  of  mission  after  mission  by  the 
imitated  vices  which  make  savage  nations  m^lt  be- 
fore our  imported  fire-water  as  before  a  demon's 
breath.     There  is  the  transmitted  ant,'uish,  handed 


The   Vow  of  the  Re: halites.  97 

down  from  generation  to  generation,  in  tainted 
constitutions  and  fatal  instincts  to  the  drunkard's 
child.     This,  then,  is  what  alcohol  does. 

These  are  its  infamous  results — parent  of  evil. 
Who  will  venture  to  deny  one  of  these  awful  in- 
dictments with  which  I  here  arraign  it?  Unneces- 
sary as  it  is,  except,  possibly,  in  rarest  cases  of  ill- 
ness, being  neither  a  food  nor  a  source  of  strength, 
it  wastes  our  resources ;  it  saps  our  national 
strength  ;  it  empties  our  churches :  it  frustrates 
our  schools  ;  it  fills  our  prisons  ;  it  crowds  the 
wards  of  our  hospitals:  it  peoples  the  cells  of  our 
asylums;  it  swells  the  tables  of  our  mortality;  it 
degrades  many  of  our  rich  ;  it  brutalizes  multitudes 
of  our  poor. 

Blasting  our  prosperity  at  home ;  mocking  our 
efforts  abroad,  it  makes  our  influence  for  evil  as 
marked  as  our  influence  for  good.  It  empoisons 
our  national  present;  and  imperils  our  national  fu- 
ture. The  Spartans  made  their  Helots  drunk  to 
warn  their  children  from  a  dangerous  vice  by  a  de- 
grading spectacle  ;  and  there  is  anguish  in  the 
thought  that  we,  the  sons  of  free,  proud  England, 
are  rapidly,  by  this  temptation,  degrading  our- 
selves into  that  which  from  this  pulpit  we  once 
were  called  —the  Helots  of  the  world. 

Now,  all  this  being  so,  what  will  you  do?  Oh, 
I  do  believe  that  there  are  thousands  of  good  men 
and  good  women,  who,  if  they  knew  about  this 
subject  all  they  might  know,  would  at  least  not  do 
certain  things.  They  would  not  look  on  coldly  and 
indifferently  while  others  struggle.  They  would 
not  think  J  he  drunkard  a  fit  subject  for  a  smile  or 


f)8  The   \  'oil'  of  the  Rechabites. 

jest.     They  would  not  oppose  any  Icjj^islalive  on. 
dcavor  to  diminish  for  the  workinj^man  his  worst 
and  fatalcst  seduction.     They   would   not  meet  the 
arf;umcnts  of  temj^erancc  by  those  feeble  supersti- 
tious and  explodcdcd  fashions  of  Scriptural  reason- 
ing which  have  been  used  ere  now  to  kindle  the 
faj^ot  of  the  inquisitor,  and  rivet  the  fetter  of  the 
slave.     They  would  not  supply  to  the  cause  of  in- 
temperance the  shallow  sophism  or  the  ensnaring 
cpiijram.     But   what  they  would  do   wouUl   be  to 
join   hand  in  hand   in   a  holy  crusade  against  this 
curse  of  nations;  this  worst  stumbling-block  on  the 
path  of  moral,  intellectual,  and  religious  progress. 
And  if  thevdid  not  see  their  way  to  do.  as  a  simple 
and    much-needed   protest   what    thousands,   thank 
God,  of  our  clergy  have  done  (and  have  done  not 
only  without  injury  to  health,  but  with  positive  ad- 
vai:tage   to  it  —  not   only    without    diminution    of 
strength,  but  with  decided  increase  of  it),  namely, 
abstain  from  all  intoxicating  drinks  for  their  breth- 
ren's sake,   if  not  for  their  own;  if  they   did   not 
make  this  cheap  and  beneficial  sacrifice,  yet  at  least, 
in  order  that  the  next  generation  may  be  partially 
delivered  from  that  which  is  the  bitter  curse  of  this, 
they  would  train  up  their  children,  when  any  fer- 
mented liquor  is  set  before  them,  to  say  with  the 
children  of  Jonadab,  the  scm  of  Rechab,  "  We  drink 
it  not,  for  our  father  commanded  us,  saying,  *  Drink 
it  not.'  "     Oh.   what  a   generation   would   that  be, 
htnv  healthy,  how  wealthy,  how  clear  of  intellect, 
how  strong  of  arm,  how  fertile  in  resources,  how 
rich  in  hope,  to  which  drink  would  be   unknown  ! 
The  blessing  to  Jonadab,  the  son  of  Rechab,  was 


The   Vow  of  the  Recliabitcs.  99 

that  he  should  not  want  a  man  to  stand  before  God 
forever;  and  if,  as  a  nation,  we  continue  in  this  sin 
unchecked,  if  the  more  we  earn  the  more  we  see 
the  people  saturating-  soul  and  body  with  this  de- 
structive liquid  fire,  what  shall,  what  must,  be  the 
curse  to  us?  Shall  it  not,  must  it  not,  be  that  on 
the  walls  of  the  banquet  houses  of  our  luxury,  shall 
come  forth  the  fingers  of  a  man's  hand  and  write, 
*' Mene,  Mene^  Tekel,  Upharsin,"  "Numbered,  num- 
bered, weighed,  and  they  shall  divide?"  Must  it 
not  be  that  for  us,  as  for  the  drunkards  of  Ephraim, 
our  glorious  beauty  shall  be  a  fading  flower;  that 
our  pleasant  vices  shall  be  made  an  instrument  to 
punish  us;  that  the  sceptre  of  our  imperial  domin- 
ion shall  drop  out  of  the  nerveless  grasp  which  our 
selfishness  has  relaxed  ;  that  the  crov.^n  shall  fall 
from  our  heads,  for  we  have  sinned  ?  Which  fate, 
the  fate  —  because  of  their  sins —  of  so  many  sinful 
nations  before  us,  on  our  repentance,  may  God 
avert!  Put  if  we  repent  not,  then  as  Assyria  fell 
for  her  pride,  and  Babylon  for  her  cruelty,  and 
Persia  for  her  effeminancy,  and  Athens  for  her  lust, 
and  Spain  for  her  avarice;  so,  in  her  turn,  must 
England  fall  for  her  drunkenness;  and  the  axe  is 
in  the  air,  and  the  fiat  shall  go  forth;  "A  good 
tree  bringeth  not  forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a  cor- 
rupt tree  bring  forth  good  fjuit."  "Every  tree 
that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down 
and  c  ist  into  the  fire." 


REASONS  FOR  ABSTAINING. 

By  thk  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D..  F.R.S, 


WiiKN  1  had  the  honor  of  bcinij  asked  to  take 
part  in  this  n)cctinp.  I  was  told  that  its  object  was 
to  consider  the  physi()h)jj;ical  aspects  of  the  Tem- 
perance question,  and  my  chief  reason  for  accept- 
ing; the  invitation,  was,  that  I  mii^ht  hear  the  re- 
marks and  the  researches  of  those  two  gentlemen, 
so  {)re-eniinf  nt  in  their  profession,  who  liave  just 
addressed  you.  It  is  quite  obvious  that  to  the 
physioloi;ical  aspect  of  the  question,  neither  you 
nor  I  can  give  any  independent  contribution.  To 
^ive  any  oriii^inal  remark  on  the  subject,  would  re- 
quire an  expert  cai)able  of  verif)4ng  the  researches, 
and  of  sifting  the  conclusions  of  men  (jf  science, 
who  on  the  subject  arc  not  yet  agreed  ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  as  Dr.  Richardson  has  just  said,  we,  at 
any  rate  can  each  of  us  contribute  to  this  sub- 
ject the  results  of  an  individual  experiment,  and  all 
that  I  have  to  furnish  to  this  part  of  the  question, 
is  only  one  little  grain  of  evidence;  and  yet  grains 
of  evidence  contributed  by  a  large  number  of  per- 
sons, must  not  be  despised  when  we  remember  that, 
after  all,  it  is  the  little  grains  of  sand  upon  the  sea- 
shore that  form  at  last  the  sole  efficient  barrier  to 
the  raging  of  its  waves.     Now  the  only  individual 


Reasons  for  Abstaining.  lOi 

grain  of  experience  that  we  can  contribute,  is  the 
(act  that  in  so  far  as  any  of  us  have  retrenched  the 
very  moderate  amount  of  alcohol  which  many  al- 
low themselves,  we  have  distinctly  gained  by  doing 
so.  If,  then,  we  come  to  the  conclusion — as  we  do 
— that  we  may  try  the  experiment  without  any 
danger,  1  think  that  it  is  one  worth  trying.  Now, 
in  prisons  and  penitentiaries,  thousands  of  people 
arc  yearl}^  admitted  who  may  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  intoxication  probably  from  their  earliest 
years,  and  from  whom,  from  the  moment  of  their 
entrance  into  the  prison,  every  drop  of  alcohol  is 
withdrawn — and  what  is  the  result?  The  men,  so 
far  from  suffering  in  health,  gain  in  power  and 
force,  and  the  women  recover  that  bloom  which 
often  has  entirely  vanished  from  faces  that  have 
been  sodden  by  intemperance  and  crime.  Every 
one  of  us,  therefore  co.n,  without  any  sort  of  dan- 
ger, try  this  experiment;  and  if  we  can  try  the  ex- 
periment, without  danger  to  health ;  if  there  be 
reason  to  think,  as  we  have  heard  from  two  such 
eminent  authorities,  that  we  can  try  the  experi- 
ment with  a  positive  gain  to  health  ;  if  by  doing  so 
we  can  contribute  a  little,  be  it  ever  so  little,  to  a 
noble  cause,  and  do  a  little,  be  it  ever  so  little,  to- 
wards dispelling  the  nightmare  of  intemperance 
that  rides  upon  the  breast  of  England  like  its  dead- 
liest sin — then  I  do  think  that  it  is  worth  the  while  of 
every  reasonable  and  right-minded  man  to  consider 
whether,  instead  of  turning  away  from  this  subject, 
as  they  so  often  do,  with  disdainful  impatience,  they 
might  not  rather  go  up  into  the  tribunal  of  their  own 
consciences,  and  ask  themselves,  deliberately  ^and 
calmly,  whether  by  a  small  and  insignificant  sacrifice 


102  Kcasons  for   Abstaining. 

Ihcy  miijht  not  |»crhaps  do  somcthinj^  lo  further, 
for  the  bcncfitof  their  fcUow-crcatures,  an  unspeak- 
able blessing,  and  do  something  to  s;ue  from  s<jmc 
of  their  fellow-creatures  an  intolerable  harm. 

Now,  it  is  with  deliberate  and  entire  sincerity 
that  I  call  this  a  small  and  insignificant  sacrifice. 
In  pamphlet  after  pamphlet  and  article  after  article, 
I  see  that  total  abstainers  arc  sneered  at  and  railed 
at  as  though  they  assumed  to  themselves  an  amount 
of  IMiarisaic  virtue.  (Here  let  mc  pause  to  say 
that  I  greatly  prefer  the  title  "total  abstainer,"  to 
the  wretched  and  ridiculous  word,  however  much  it 
niav  have  been  honored,  of  "  teetotaler.")  Now,  so 
far  as  that  charge  has  any  ground  at  all,  I  think  we 
may  say  in  reply,  Do  not  misunderstand  us.  It 
may  be  true  that  some  of  us  have  used  language 
siinplv  from  the  intensity  of  feelings— or  from  our 
conviction  that  nothing  but  enthusiasm  cm  break 
the  bonds  of  a  colossal  tyranny— language  which 
sounds,  perhaps,  laudatory  to  ourselves  and  con- 
demnatory of  others  ;  but.  so  far  as  wc  have  done 
so,  we  hope  that  that  language  may  be  attributed 
simply  to  our  conviction  of  the  dreadfulness  of  the 
necessity,  and  to  our  conviction  of  the  sacredncss 
of  our  crusade:  and  so  far  from  thinking  that  by 
becoming  total  abstainers,  we  have  done  anything 
at  all  great  or  to  be  proud  of,  we  are  quite  con- 
vinced that  you  would  not  bring  that  objection 
against  us,  if  you  would  turn  to  the  subject  your 
unprejudiced  and  deliberate  attention  ;  for  when 
you  had  faced  the  overwhelming  amount  of  evi- 
dence which  is  now  so  easily  accessible  to  all.  you 
would  be  ready  at  once  to  join  us  in  so  trivial  and 
eflcctive  a  self-denial.     I  call  it  a  "  trivial  selfde- 


Reaso7is  for  Abstaining.  103 

nial,"  because  I  am  sure  that  no  total  abstainer 
would  so  libel  the  manhood  of  myriads  of  moderate 
drinkers,  as  to  believe  that  if  they  thought  it  right 
they  would  find  any  sort  of  difficulty  in  giving  up 
what  is  at  the  best  a  needless  and,  perhaps,  not 
very  noble  luxury;  I  call  the  self-sacrifice  "  effec- 
tive "  because,  as  Sir  Wilfred  Lawson  says,  the 
mitred  heads  of  the  whole  of  the  episcopate  to- 
gether, could  not  discover  any  cause  for  drunken- 
ness except  drinking;  and  if  every  total  abstainer 
was  only  able  in  different  ranks  of  life  to  win  over 
a  few  others  by  moral  suasion  and  by  manly  argu- 
ment to  his  own  view  of  the  case,  then  the  national 
sin  which  now  sullies  the  name  of  England,  would 
soon  become  an  extinct  and  a  forgotten  shame. 

But  leaving,  therefore,  on  one  side  altogether  the 
physiological  aspect  of  the  question,  I  do  think  that 
there  are  two  strong  reasons  why  we  may  begin  to 
assume  and  to  assure  people  that  since  alcohol  is 
not,  at  any  rate,  as  Dr.  Richardson  and  Sir  Henry 
Thompson  have  just  demonstrated,  a  food,  it  had 
better  be  regarded  either  as  an  exceptional  luxury 
or  an  occasional  medicine  ;  those  two  reasons — and 
they  are  all  that  I  shall  dwell  upon  to-night,  without 
entering  upon  the  great  field  of  the  subject  of  tem- 
perance and  all  the  reasons  for  it — are  public  ex- 
ample, and  personal  security.  I  think  there  is 
enough  in  these  two  grounds  to  persuade  us  thaj 
total  abstinence  is  an  absolute  necessity  for  some, 
♦.hat  it  is  a  positive  duty  for  a  great  many,  and  that 
at  least  as  a  "  counsel  of  perfection  " — at  any  rate 
in  the  present  time,  and  in  the  present  aspect  of  a 
greal:  national  struggle — it  may  be  desirable  for 
most  to  give  up  the  habit  of  moderate  drinking, 


104  Reasons  for  Abstaining. 

and  to  take  to  total  abstinence  as  the  general  liabil 
of  their  lives.  Now,  I  do  think  that  there  arc  cir- 
cumstances at  present,  which  would  give  excep- 
tional force  in  tins  matter  to  a  public  example.  I 
am  not  goini^  over  the  too  familiar  ground  of  those 
horrors — horrors  disgraceful  and  unutterable — hor- 
rors foul  as  the  reck  of  the  gin-i)alace,  and  glaring 
as  its  nightly  gas— which  are  the  direct  conse- 
quence, the  normal  result  of  the  ramifications  of 
this  immense  tratTic,  and  of  the  multiplication  of 
every  conceivable  facility  for  propagating  what  we 
believe  to  be  a  dreadful  peril,  and  perpetuating 
what  we  know  to  be  a  fcprlul  curse,  I  think  if  we 
are  able  to  resist  the  evidence  given  us  by  gaoler 
after  gaoler,  by  clergyman  after  clergyman,  by  ma- 
gistrate after  magistrate,  no  evidence  on  this  sub- 
ject is  likely  to  convince  us  at  all. 

1  must  confess  that  it  is  only  familiarity  with  the 
subject  that  can  at  all  impress  us  with  its  magni- 
tude, lu  the  providence  of  God,  my  own  life  has 
been  passed  in  quiet  country  places,  and  it  was  not 
until  I  came  to  London,  and  not  until  my  attention 
was  very  deliberately  turned  by  circumstances  to 
it,  that  I  was  at  all  aware  of  how  frightful  was  the 
degradation,  and  how  terrible  was  the  curse,  which 
was  at  work  in  the  midst  of  us.  It  seems  to  me 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  Fury,  withering  and 
blighting  the  whole  fame  of  England.  Every  week 
in  the  organ  of  the  United  Kingdom  Alliance,  there 
is  published  a  ghastly  column  called  *'  Fruits  of  the 
Traffic."  It  is  no  invention  ;  it  is  no  rhetoric  ;  it  is 
no  exaggeration ;  it  is  nothing  that  is  disputable; 
nothing  that  can  be  in  the  least  questioned  ;  it  is 
nothing  in  the  world  but  a   scries  of  horribly  pro- 


Reasons  for  Abstaining.  105 

jaic  cuttings  from  the  accidents  and  offences,  the 
police  and  the  criminal  reports  of  other  newspa 
pers,  and  it  records  calamity  after  calamity,  and 
crime  after  crime,  disease,  shipwrecks,  conflagra- 
tions, murders,  the  kicking  and  trampling  of  women, 
the  maiming  and  murdering  of  little  children,  all 
of  which  are  directly  attributable  to  the  effects  of 
drink,  not  by  any  inference  of  the  editor,  but  by 
the  indignant  declarations  of  judges,  by  the  reit- 
erated testimony  of  witnesses,  and  by  the  constant 
"emorseful  confession  of  the  poor  criminals  them- 
selves. Are  we,  then,  simply,  as  it  were,  to  pass 
from  chamber  to  chamber  of  this  great  temple  of 
abominations,  and  look  at  what  we  see  as  though 
it  were  a  cabinet  of  curiosities,  and  gaze  coldly 
on  all  these  scenes  of  shame  and  horror  which  are 
painted  upon  its  walls  ?  Or  are  we  to  be  aroused  by 
these  facts  merely  to  talk  the  vague  language  of 
philanthropy,  and  to  sigh  over  wretchedness,  while 
we  do  not  so  much  as  lift  a  single  finger  to  help  the 
wretched?  We  send  abroad  bishops  and  chap- 
lains and  missionaries,  and  at  home  build  national 
and  Sunda3'-schools ;  we  multiply  holidays;  we 
improve  wages  ;  we  endow  churches — and  what 
happens?  Our  bishops  and  our  chaplains  and  mis- 
sionaries bear  witness,  and  cr}'  to  us  from  dislant 
lands,  that  the  contagion  of  this  national  sin  follows 
them  even  there — that  it  often  blights  into  exter- 
mination the  poor  ignorant  savages,  and  that  in 
other  countries  it  makes  the  more  doubtful  and 
polished  heathen  turn  away  with  scorn  and  hatred 
from  the  very  name  of  a  Christian.  And  at  home 
this  same  potent  spell  of  sorcery  frustrates  our 
education,  empties  our  churches,  throngs  our  pri- 


lo6  /y!tiiii>ns  Jor  Abstaining. 

sons,  and  crowds  our  penitentiaries.  It  makes  per 
fectly  useless — nay,  it  turns  even  into  a  bane,  our 
shortened  hours  of  hibor,  and  makes  improved 
wac^es,  at  which  otherwise  we  should  rejoice  with 
all  our  hearts,  a  ruin  and  not  a  boon. 

Well,  now,  if  these  be  the  results,  even  if  \vc 
shrink  from  so  terrible  and  fearful  an  expression  as 
that  which  Dr.  Richarcls(jn  has  at  once  appropri 
ated  and  repudiated  of  callini^  alcohol  "  the  devil 
in  solution,"  I  am  quite  sure  that  we  should  not 
shrink  from  sayin<^  that  it  has  a  very  j^reat  deal  of 
bad  spirits  in  reality,  and  that  whether  "  alcohol" 
or  "  Apollvon  "  be  the  true  name  for  that  multitude 
of  fKiids,  they  would  all  of  them  bear  testimony 
with  one  mouth,  and  exclaim — in  the  lani^uai^e  ot 
the  demoniac  of  Gadara — "  our  name  is  Legion,  for 
we  are  many."  Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  what 
is  it,  then,  that,  under  these  circumstances,  we 
ought  to  do?  Some  people  will  say,  **  Build  better 
houses  for  the  poor;  give  them  improved  means 
of  amusement;  pass  the  Permissive  Bill — try  the 
Gothenburg  system — withdraw  the  grocers'  licen- 
ses—  sternly  punish  adulteration,  provide  lighter 
beverages:  try  to  bring  public  opinion  to  bear 
upon  the  supporters  of  the  trade  so  that  they  may 
rigidly,  in  God's  sight  at  least,  regulate  and,  if  pos- 
sible, minimise  it  within  what  are  supposed  to  be 
its  absolutely  necessary  limits."  Well,  try  these 
and  thousands  of  other  things  (and  may  God  speed 
every  possible  effort  to  combat  this  colossal  evil), 
but,  at  any  rate,  do  not  let  us  waste  time  in  mere 
talk.  Let  us,  at  any  rate  try  to  do  something. 
Wo!jld  to  God  that  the  millionaires  in  England,  of 
whom  there  are   now  a  considerable  number,  in 


Reasons  for  Abstaining.  107 

stead  of  trying  to  thrust  themselves  into  the  ranks 
of  the  landed  aristocracy,  might  only  have  their 
hearts  moved  to  try  rather  to  make  to  themselves 
friends  of  the  Mammon  of  unrighteousness,  and  to 
aim  at  the  infinitely  nobler  and  better  end  of  lavish- 
ing their  wealth  to  do  all  the  good  they  possibly 
can  in  this  sternly  practical  direction  to  millions  of 
their  fellow-creatures. 

While,  in  the  meantime,  the  Legislature  is  tryi,.g 
experiments;  while  conferences  are  sitting;  while 
congresses  are  talking;  while  the  requisite  thou- 
sands are  being  collected  ;  while  efforts  are  being 
made  to  meet  this  immense  and  powerful  monop- 
oly, all  this  while  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
of  our  stalwart  men  and  fine  lads,  and  (jur  young 
girls,  are  simply  reeling  along  that  path  of  fiery 
pitfalls  which  ends  in  the  drunkard's  grave  ;  and, 
therefore,  let  us  all  try  to  do  something,  and  ii  we 
can  do  nothing  else,  we  can  do  this  one  very  little 
thing — viz.,  show  by  our  personal  example  how 
easy  a  thing  it  is,  and  how  beneficial  a  thing  it  is, 
to  abstain  from  that  which  in  extreme  moderation 
may  have  produced  no  injurious  results,  but  which 
is  most  fatal  and  most  ruinous  to  thousands  who 
begin  with  that  extreme  moderation,  and  are  led 
by  it  to  fatal  excess,  as  by  a  direct  and  yet  most 
treacherous  avenue. 

And,  now,  I  should  like  to  say  one  word  on  the 
other  aspect — viz.,  that  of  personal  security ;  andi 
you  must  not  be  either  startled  or  incredulous  at 
my  saying  anything  about  it.  You  may  with  per 
feet  truth  say  that  all  vour  life  long  you,  like  thou- 
sands of  others,  have  daily  drunk  perhaps  one  or 
two  glasses  of  wine  or  beer,  and  yet  have  never 


lo8  Reasons  for  Abstaining. 

known  in  your  lives,  by  personal  experience,  what 
it  is  to  exceed  moderation,  and  that  may  be  per- 
fectly true.  And  yet  I  do  think  that  if  you  were 
to  look  round  you  — it  may  be  in  your  own  family 
circles,  and  it  may  be  in  the  ranj^c  of  your  personal 
acquaintance  —  you  would  |)r()bablv  find  many 
very  p^ricvous  cases  which  would  lead  vou  to  doubt 
the  advisability  of  the  process  of  moderate  drink- 
injj;  in  fact,  I  am  certain  that  if  this  ^reat  meetinjj 
were  polled  and  asked  whether  thcv  knew  of  any 
one  man  or  woman  whom  drink  had  ruined,  the 
answer  would  be  that  there  was  not  one,  or  scarce- 
ly one,  house  in  which  there  was  not  one  dead. 
Certainly  I  myself  have  known  man}-  who  have 
been  ruined  in  this  way.  They  bei^an  without  any 
thouEjht  of  excess  whatever,  I  dare  scarcely  sum- 
mon either  from  the  livinij^  or  from  the  dead  these 
ghosts  and  shadows  of  what  once  they  were,  in  or- 
der that  they  may  warn  us  from  this  peril  by  the 
waviiij^  of  their  wasted  hands;  still,  I  may  distant- 
ly and  dimlv  describe  one  or  two  cases  only  which 
I  have  known  in  my  own  rank  of  life.  I  think  of 
one  young  jj^ailant  olHcer,  brave  as  a  lion,  liberal  as 
the  lii^ht  of  day — a  man  whose  name  was  once  not 
unknown  in  his  country's  service,  whose  career 
was  suddenly  cut  short,  and  who  died  a  disgraced 
and  ruined  man.  I  think  of  the  case  of  another — a 
young  University  student  of  brilliant  attainments, 
of  unusual  promise,  who  suddenly  sank  from  the 
same  cause  to  destitution  ;  who  used  to  write  beg- 
g  ng  letters  most  abject  in  tone,  and  yet  written  in 
Latin  so  choice  and  so  eloquent  that  few  could 
have  surpassed  it,  and  who  died  disowned  by  his 
family  in  the  ward  of  a  London  hospital,  of  delirium 


Reasons  for  Abstaining.  109 

tremens.  I  think  of  a  lawyer,  whose  practice  once 
bade  fair  to  be  magnificent,  indulging  in  such  "  pleas- 
ures," sinking  into  dubious  practices,  losing  his 
place  and  influence  in  society,  and  dying  a  dishon- 
ored man.  I  think  of  another — a  clergyman,  very 
eloquent  and  widely  known,  whose  presence  was 
everywhere  desired,  who  died  miserably  with  a 
mysterious  blight  upon  his  name  from  the  same 
cause.  And  I  could  go  on  giving  many  more  cases 
which  have  come  under  my  own  immediate  knowl- 
edge. There  is  very  near  my  own  parish  a  com- 
mon lodging-house,  where,  if  you  entered,  you 
might  be  met  by  people  who  would  address  you  in 
French,  or  German,  or  Italian,  or  even  Latin,  or 
Greek — men  who  were  men  of  rank  and  position, 
men  of  culture,  captains  in  the  army,  teachers  in  the 
university,  but  who,  by  this  cause,  have  sunk  down 
to  the  degraded  rabble  of  guilty  sufferers. 

Well,  now,  what  is  the  moral  of  these  facts? 
Surely  it  is  that  alcohol,  whether  you  call  it  a  poi- 
son or  not,  has  something  very  peculiar  in  its  na- 
ture;  that  there  is  about  it  a  sweetness  and  seduc- 
tiveness, a  sort  of  serpentine  spell  of  attraction, 
which  gradually  draws  men  on  while  they  do  not 
know  it,  and  which  at  last  they  find  themselves  un- 
able to  resist.  They  begin  by  admiring  the  "  orient 
liquor  in  the  crystal  glass  "  of  the  enchanter,  and 
they  go  on  drinkiug  their  wine  day  by  day  and  at 
last  the  hour  of  misfortune  comes  when  they  are 
tried  by  toil  or  disappointment,  when  they  are  tried 
by  sorrow  or  bereavement,  and  perhaps  on  that 
account  alone  they  drink  too  much  ;  and  although 
they  began  life  as  gay,  and  proud,  and  as  happy 
as  anj-  of  us,  they   are  notv  sitting  amid  the   en- 


I  lO  Ki'iiscns  /or  Abstaining. 

tani^lcmcnt  of  terrible  temptation — amid  the  very 
ruins  of  their  former  state.  Coleridge  says:  "  Evil 
habit  first  drav/s,  then  drags,  and  then  drives." 
Or,  as  an  eminent  French  writer  expresses  it,  "  We 
are  insensibly  led  to  yield  without  resistance  to 
slight  temj)tations  which  we  despise,  and  gradually 
we  find  ourselves  in  a  perilous  situation  or  even 
falling  into  an  abyss,  and  then  we  cry  out  to  God 
'  Why  hast  thou  made  us  too  weak  to  rise,'  and,  in 
spite  of  ourselves,  a  voice  answers  to  our  con- 
sciences, '  If  I  made  thee  too  weak  by  thine  own 
power  to  rise  out  of  the  gulf,  it  was  because  I  made 
thee  amply  strong  enough  never  to  have  fallen  into 
it.*  "  Oh  !  do  not  let  any  of  us  be  so  proud  as  to 
think  we  should  be  safe.  If  men  of  the  highest 
genius  ha\e  fallen  under  this  temptation,  if  even  an 
Addis(jn,  a  Burns,  a  Hartley  Coleridge,  and  hun- 
dreds of  others,  had  been  tempted  by  the  excess  of 
their  intellectual  work  to  rekindle  the  vestal  flame 
upon  the  altar  of  Genius,  by  the  unhallowed  fires 
of  alcohol,  I,  for  one,  will  not  be  the  man  to  abstain 
from  saying  to  any  one — Let  him  that  thinketh  he 
standeth — however  superior  he  may  think  himself 
Irom  the  same  possibility  of  temptation  —  still  let 
him  beware  lest  he  fall. 

These,  tiien,  seem  to  me  to  be  sufficient  reasons, 
both  on  the  grounds  of  public  example  and  per. 
sonal  security,  why  every  one  of  us  might,  with 
perfect  rectitude  and  perfect  honor,  and  without 
any  fanaticism  or  any  folly,  try  an  experiment 
which  can  do  us  no  harm,  which  may  do  us  great 
good,  and  which,  at  any  rate,  may  be  the  means  of 
enabling  us  to  do  good  by  our  example  to  thou- 
sands of  others.     Our  leading  journal  told   us  the 


Reasons  for  Abstainhi;^.  1 1  \ 

other  day  that  speeches  on  ecliicalioii  were  tire- 
some to  fatuity.  Be  it  so.  It  ;  not  possible  with- 
out persistence  and  without  enthusiasm  to  carry  on 
a  battle  like  this.  Let  our  speeches  be  tiresome 
and  fatuous  so  long  as  they  be  in  the  slightest  de- 
g-ree,  necessary  to  the  permanence  to  the  glory  of 
England  and  the  preservation  of  thousands  of  her 
sons ;  however  dull  our  speeches  may  be,  I  take  it 
that  they  are  not,  by  a  long  way,  so  dull  as  the 
monotonous  wail  of  misery  that  rists  from  thou- 
sands of  homes  which  drunkenness  has  made  as  in- 
tolerable as  a  wild  beast's  lair  ;  and  however  weari- 
some our  speeches  may  be,  I  am  quite  sure  that 
they  are  not  one  tithe  so  wearisome  as  the  pauper- 
ism, and  crime,  and  degradation  which  are  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation,  and  against 
which  we  seem  to  strive  in  vain.  It  may  seem  to 
be  in  vain,  but  it  will  not  be  in  vain.  The  rook 
which  shatters  and  flings  back  the  assault  of  the 
billows,  is  gradually  undermined  by  the  flowing 
wave,  and  as  long  as  we  hear  the  incessant  lap- 
ping of  the  water  on  the  crag,  we  ma}'  believe 
that  the  tide  of  public  opinion  is  rising  and  rising 
— rising  by  these  very  means,  rising  b}'  these  very 
meetings,  rising  by  these  tedious  and  fatuous 
speeches — until  I  venture  to  prophesy  it  shall  have 
risen  so  high,  that  before  another  twenty  years  is 
over,  it  will  have  resistlessly  swept  away  the  strong 
rock  of  opposing  interests.  It  will  have  risen  so 
high,  that  it  will  have  utterly  overwhelmed,  under 
fathoms  of  national  shame  and  national  indigna- 
tion, that  sunken  reef  of  vice  on  which  we  are  now 
suffering  so  many  a  gallant  and  noble  vessel  to 
crash,  and  to  be  irremediably  shipwrecked. 


THE  SERPENT  AND  THE  TIGER. 

By  the  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


I  CAN  not  help  asking  what  is  the  reason  and  the 
object  for  all  these  temperance  meetings  which  are 
now  taking  place  constantly  all  ov^er  the  country. 
I  will  try  to  answer  that  question,  and  possibly  in 
answering  it  I  may  contribute  one  little  sand-grain, 
however  small,  and  however  insignificant,  as  a  bar 
rier  against  that  rushing  tide  of  evil,  which,  as  Mr. 
Thornton  has  already  said,  is  threatening  to  over- 
whelm us.  The  reason  is  because  we  find  ourselves 
face  to  face  with  a  colossal  evil.  Mr.  Thornton  has 
said  that  I  have  been  accused  in  Glasgow — I  did 
not  know  of  it,  but  I  have  no  doubt  it  is  true — of 
exaggerating  the  evils  of  intemperance;  but  those 
who  say  we  are  exaggerating  the  evils  of  intemper- 
ance are  simply  ignorant  of  its  deadly  virulence. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  any  particular  remedies 
which  may  be  suggested,  no  serious-thinking  man 
who  has  faced  the  overwhelming  evidence  on  the 
subject  can  possibly  assert,  in  the  face  of  that 
evidence,  that  we  exaggerate  the  evils  of  which 
we  complain.  And  yet,  although  we  are  face  to 
face  with  this  evil,  which  is  so  colossal  and  so  terri- 
ble, it  certainly  is  the  fact  that  at  present  the  Legis- 
lature of  the  country  is  not  aroused,  the  press  of 
the  country  is  not  aroused,  the  nation  in  general  is 


1 1 4  I'h4  SrrptHt  and  the  Tiger. 

not  aroused,  even  the  Church  is  not  arouscti  to  a 
full  sense  of  its  duty  upon  this  subject.  If  you 
l(H)k  at  it.  the  attitude  of  the  nation  in  fs^encral.  I 
think  it  can  only  be  described  as  that  of  indolent 
accjuiescence.  They  are  very  like  the  Athenians, 
who,  when  they  were  toUl  that  the  Empire  of  Philip 
was  j^rowinj^,  and  was  threatening  to  overwhelm 
them,  s.'ud  that  it  was  disastrous  and  very  danger- 
ous, but  did  not  do  what  they  ouj^ht  to  have  done, 
namely,  rush  down  to  the  sea-shore  and  man  the 
ships  and  >;ather  at  the  muster-jjround  for  recruits. 
In  the  siinie  way  the  press  can  only  be  described  as 
beinjj  in  a  condition  of  indolent  acquiescence.  It 
is  quite  true  that  now  and  then  they  fret  and  fume 
a  jjreat  deal  when  there  arc  some  disclosures  of  the 
danj^ers  and  extent  of  intenjpcrancc,  but  they  don't 
show  the  least  inclination  to  clutch  the  pois'>nous 
monster  by  the  thrt)at.  And,  aj^ain,  the  attitude 
of  the  Lej^islalure  can  only  l>e  called  that  of  in- 
dolent  acquiescence,  or  even  in  some  cases  of 
ruinous  patronaj;fc,  for  they  certainly  ijjnore  petition 
after  petition  on  the  subject,  and  constantly  throw 
out  bill  after  bill,  and  whereas  they  arc  ready  to 
give  days  after  days  to  party  squabbles,  it  is  very 
rarely  they  will  give  even  hours  to  face  and  do 
away  with  the  evil  which,  while  the  scourges  of 
war,  and  pestilence,  and  famine  are  continually  a|>. 
pcaring  and  disappearing,  is  going  on  forever.  It 
is  a  scourge  more  deadly  in  its  ravages  than  pesti- 
lence, and  more  devastating  than  war,  and  yet  they 
show  no  inclination  to  give  even  hours  for  the  re- 
nioval  of  that  scourge,  and  therefore  I  can  only  say 
that  the  tone  of  the  Legislature  is  still  that  of  in- 
dolent acquiescence.     But  again   we  may  say  the 


The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  115 

same  of  the  Church.  It  is  only  now  that  a  minority 
of  the  nation  is  really  in  earnest  in  this  matter,  and 
who  not  only  say  they  are  in  earnest,  but  who  show 
they  are  in  earnest  not  only  by  their  lips,  but  also 
in  their  lives.  Well,  now,  our  work,  of  course,  is  to 
do  away  with  this  evil,  and  if  we  only  can  succeed 
in  making  the  nation,  and  the  Legislature,  and  the 
press,  and  the  Church  in  earnest  for  one  single  hour, 
then  certainly  the  head  of  this  great  monster  would 
be  crushed,  and  we  would  throw  off  these  great 
fetters,  which,  though  they  even  be  fetters  of  iron, 
would  then  become  mere  tow  at  the  breath  of  the 
fiame,  and  if  wc  succeed  in  doing  away  with  that, 
it  is  impossible  to  comprehend  the  immensity  of  the 
change  which  would  be  gained.  I  am  no  temper- 
ance fanatic  myself,  but  no  less  a  man  than  Mr, 
Bright  said  many  years  ago,  that  if  for  five  years 
only  we  could  do  away  with  the  liquor  traffic,  at 
the  end  of  these  five  years  we  should  not  know  the 
face  of  the  country  from  the  immense  difference 
and  blessedness.  It  would  show  no  comparison 
with  what  had  been  before ;  and  proving,  as  we 
can  decidedly  prove,  that  alcohol  is,  as  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton said  just  now,  not  a  necessity,  there  being,  as 
has  been  said,  no  more  food  in  it  than  in  a  flash  of 
lightning;  bringing,  as  we  can  bring,  an  immense 
mass  of  evidence  showing  that,  for  the  majority,  at 
any  rate,  of  those  who  take  it,  it  is  essentially  dele- 
terious. We  can  safely  point  to  facts  that  arc  not 
only  undisputable,  but  undisputed — that  this  alcohol 
is  slaying  its  tens  of  thousands  and  debasing  its 
hundreds  of  thousands,  and  being  the  source  o"" 
misery  to  millions  in  this  country.  And  yet,  show- 
ing, as  we  do  show,  that  it  is  supported  by  immense 


Ii6  The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger. 

prejudices  and  an  immense  hereditary  force  of  cus. 
torn,  then  \vc  can  but  ask  in  reference  to  all  these 
facts  whether  we  are  really  in  earnest  or  not  about 
it.  Are  the  people  in  earnest  when  the  publicans 
have  more  than  once  boasted  that  they  miii^'.U  in 
any  election  purchase  as  many  votes  as  they  liked 
—that  was  said  before  the  ballot,  but  I  suppose  it 
is  the  same  now — by  giving  the  men  pots  of  beer? 
Are  the  constituencies  in  earnest  who  arc  constantly 
sending  members  to  Parliament  who  arc  ready  to 
talk  out  the  most  moderate  bills  for  temperance  re- 
form, and  who  last  session  almost  exhausted  the 
forms  of  the  House  in  trying  to  prevent  the  almost 
unanimous  wish  that  Ireland  should  gain  for  itself 
a  Sunday  which  was  undissipated  and  undcse- 
crated?  Are  the  Legislature,  once  more  I  al^k,  in 
earnest?  There  is  a  very  fine  old  rule  which  is, 
Salus  populi  suprema  lex — ihe  safety  of  the  people  is 
the  highest  possible  rule.  Can  we  say  the  Legis- 
lature is  following  that  rule  when  they  leave  the 
people  entirely  undefended  as  a  prey  to  the  in- 
tensity of  this  most  terrible  temptation?  Let  us 
only  try  to  look  for  a  fe'.v  moments  these  facts  a 
little  more  closely  in  the  face.  Here  we  have 
iodging  among  us  a  Protean  form  of  harm  and 
temptation  to  which  mvriads  succumb.  It  ruins 
our  best  parts  ;  it  blights  our  fairest  hopes  ;  it  infects 
our  rising  colonies;  it  is  the  curse  of  our  Asiatic 
dependencies  ;  it  makes  races  detest  our  dominion  ; 
it  makes  empires  loathe  our  name;  it  undoes  the 
effects  of  our  schools ;  it  paralyzes  the  influence  of 
our  churches  ;  it  is  prolific  of  disaster,  disease,  and 
death,  and  that  is  the  evil  which  we  are  now  called 
\ipon  to  face.     Well,  we  can  look  at  this  matter  in 


The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  1 1 7 

two  ways.  It  has  two  characteristics  about  it. 
Sometimes  it  takes  men  slowly  and  stealthily  like  a 
serpent,  and  sometimes  it  comes  terribly  and  with 
tiger  leaps.  It  has  in  it  the  natures  of  these  two 
animals — the  serpent  and  the  tiger.  Now  let  me 
illustrate  for  a  moment  by  two  anecdotes.  I  will 
bring  testimony  both  from  America  and  Scotland 
to  show  you  that  very  often  the  curse  of  drink 
begins  in  the  individual  man  by  insinuating  into  his 
mind  in  the  form  of  a  necessity  or  in  the  form  of  a 
virtue.  An  American  gentleman  was  once  asked 
how  it  was  that  he  never  by  any  chance  took  a 
single  glass  of  spirits,  but  always  two  or  three  or 
more ;  and  his  answer  was  that  whenever  he  had 
♦,aken  one  glass  of  spirits  he  felt  himself  to  be 
another  man,  and  then  he  felt  himself  bound  to  treat 
that  other  man.  If  he  had  said  that  he  not  only 
felt  himself  another  man,  but  also  a  very  much  in- 
ferior man,  if  he  had  felt  himself  much  less  under 
the  control  of  reason,  which  ought  to  be  the  guide 
of  every  man's  life,  he  would  have  been  very  much 
nearer  the  mark.  A  poor  woman  said  in  London 
the  other  day  that  she  had  two  husbands  in  one 
man.  One  of  them  was  a  kindly,  honest,  and  re- 
spectable person,  whom  she  loved,  and  that  was 
her  husband  when  sober.  The  other  was  a  drunken, 
brutal  fellow,  who  was  constantly  ill-treating  and 
abusing  her,  and  that  was  her  husband  when  he 
was  drunk.  I  was  told  the  other  day  by  the  Lord 
Provost  of  Glasgow  that  no  remark  was  made  more 
constantly  by  women  brought  before  him  than  that. 
He  used  to  ask  them,  "  What  kind  of  a  husband 
have  you?"  and  their  answer  was,  "  When  sober 
he   was  the  best  husband  in  Glasgow,  but  when 


Il8  The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger. 

drunk  he  is  waui  than  a  beast."  Well,  now.  I  have 
told  you  that  story  from  America  to  show  you  how 
very  rarely  people  stop  with  one  g^iass  anv  more 
than  any  one  can  stop  with  one  sin  in  iiis  life. 
Another  story  I  may  tell  you  is  regarding  a  Scottish 
minister,  who,  very  much  to  his  own  credit,  was  a 
total  abstainer,  and  was  so  because  he  wished  his 
people  to  be  so  too,  and  had  been  so  for  some  time. 
Being  ill,  he  went  to  the  doctor,  who  gave  him  that 
very  bad  piece  of  advice  which  so  many  doctors 
have  given,  to  the  ruin  of  thousands  of  their  patients, 
although  1  am  glad  to  say  every  day  our  greatest 
physicians  arc  less  and  less  resorting  to  that  advice, 
lie  said:  "You  must  take  a  little  spirits — a  little 
whisky."  The  minister  said  :  "I  can  not  do  that; 
I  am  a  total  abstainer.  My  people  would  hear  of 
it."  The  doctor  insidiousl)' said  :  '•  Vou  must  not 
let  that  stand  in  your  way.  You  are  not  at  all  well. 
You  can  take  whisky,  and  you  can  have  the  hot 
water  brought  up  to  you  when  you  shave."  An 
elder,  going  to  the  house  some  time  after,  asked 
the  housekeeper  how  the  minister  was.  The  serv- 
ant said:  "Well,  he  is  well  enough,  but  there  is 
something  wrong.  I  don't  know  what  it  is."  The 
elder  said  :  "  What  is  wrong  with  him?"  "  Well," 
said  the  servant,  '*  he  is  clean  daft,  he  is  just  shav- 
ing all  day  long,  and  always  ringing  for  hot  water." 
So  that  you  see  if  you  once  begin  indulgence  you 
will  go  on,  and  always  be  ringing  for  hot  water. 
That  is  what  I  call  the  serpent  form  of  this  tempta 
tion. 

"  The  smiling  infant  in  his  hand  shall  take 
The  crested  basilisk  and  sp>eckled  snake, 
Pleased,  the  f^roen  lustre  of  the  scales  sun'ey. 
And  with  their  forked  tongues  shall  innocently  play." 


The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  ng 

But  we  are  not  in  the  millennial  age,  and  if  any  one 
plays  with  this  serpent  as  we  do,  and  regard  it  as 
we  do,  a  thing  to  be  honored  at  public  and  social 
gatherings,  if  they  secrete  it  in  the  heart,  the)''  will 
5nd  at  the  end,  as  Scripture  tells  us,  that  it  biteth 
as  a  serpent.  The  other  form  of  particular  tempta- 
tion which  alcohol  assumes,  the  particular  way  in 
which  it  assails  man,  is  the  tiger  form.  It  comes 
crouching  upon  him,  and  then  makes  a  sudden 
spring.  How  do  we  treat  that  wild  beast  ?  We 
give  him  splendid  lairs,  and  make  them  glare  in 
glass  and  gilding.  The  tiger  lies  constantly  in  wait 
at  our  street-corners  to  spring  unexpectedly  on  un- 
wary travelers. 

Well,  then,  here  we  have  to  ask,  whether  in  the 
face  of  these  facts,  the  Legislature  has  not  indo- 
lently acquiesced,  and  now  on  what  grounds  are 
they  doing  so  ?  I  say,  unhesitatingly,  that  the 
grounds  on  which  Parliament  does  not  interfere 
with  the  sale  of  drink  are  theoretically  untenable 
as  well  as  practically  disastrous.  First,  they  do 
not  interfere  because  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject, 
and  second,  because  of  vested  interests.  Is  it  any 
violation  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject  to  save  a  man 
from  his  destruction  ?  If  a  man  is  brought  up  when 
he  makes  an  attempt  to  commit  suicide,  why  are 
people  practically  encouraged  not  only  themselves 
to  commit  suicide — although  il  is  so  slowly  that 
none  call  it  murder — but  even  t<^  drag  the  families 
along  with  them  to  the  same  lingering  and  horrible 
death  by  means  of  drink?  Is  it  violation  of  the  lib- 
erty of  the  subject  that  vaccination  is  made  com- 
pulsory to  save  us  from  being  scarred  and  killed  by 
smail-pox  ?   Is  it  violation  of  the  liberty  of  the  sub- 


I20  The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger. 

ject  that  venders  of  p^iinpowder  r^re  not.  allowed 
with  impunity  to  sell  fireworks  to  children  that 
they  may  blow  themselves  uj>?  Is  it  violation  ot 
the  liberty  of  the  subject  that  s^anil)lini;-hoiises  and 
lotteries  have  been  abolished  in  order  that  our 
youiiL!^  nobles  may  not  ruin  themselves  bv  the  fatal 
fascination  of  the  dice-box  ?  Well,  then,  if  measures 
like  these,  all  of  which  arc  interferences  with  the 
.iberty  of  the  sul>ject,  arc  not  only  tolerated,  but 
desired — yes,  if  liberty  be  the  very  antitliesis  ol 
dangerous  license — if  \vc  interfere  in  these  in- 
stances, because  in  these  instances  liberty  would  be 
ruinous,  one  can  not  help  asking  whether  you  can 
do  a  deeper  shame  to  liberty  than  to  use  her  name 
as  a  justification  of  acts  which  really  tend  to  the 
perjK'tration  of  an  indescribable  national  disgrace? 

Statistics  show  that  owXy  one  |)erson  in  three 
millions  of  those  who  travel  by  rail  in  England  dies 
by  railway  accident,  and  from  sliipwreck  the  losses 
are  not  much  more  than  seven  hundred  per  annum  ; 
and  yet  by  drink,  and  the  diseases  caused  by  drink, 
more  persons  die  in  one  year  than  die  from  niilway 
disasters  and  shipping  calamities  in  fifty  years.  !• 
these  circumstances  this  must  be  seen  to  by  o» 
Legislature,  and  I  think  you  could  not  make  ih*. 
name  of  liberty  stink  more  in  the  nostrils  than  by 
degrading  it  to  such  ignoble  uses,  and  by  using  its 
shield  as  a  sign  for  the  dram-shop.  There  is  no  in- 
terest so  unblushing,  because  there  is  none  so  tol- 
erated as  that  of  the  monopolist  who  claims  a  vested 
interest  in  a  public  injury. 

Until  the  Legislature  has  learned  that  it  is  their 
plain  and  stern  duty  to  put  Mr.  Gladstone's  rule 
into  force  to  make  it  easy  to  do  right  and  difficult 


TM  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  121 

to  do  wrong- — until  they  learn  that  it  is  thevr  plain 
and  stern  duty  to  protect  from  temptation  those 
who  are  far  too  weak  to  protect  themselves — until 
they  have  learned  that  it  is  their  duty  to  prevent 
private  interests  from  driving  their  roots  into  and 
drawing  their  sap  from  the  conditions  of  national 
decay  and  national  corruption — until  the  nation  has 
learned  that  it  is  its  plain  and  stern  duty  to  send  to 
Parliament  men  who  will  help  them  in  fighting 
against  this  deadly  and  imminent  foe,  and  until  the 
Church  has  learned  that  its  duty  is  to  blow,  as  it 
were,  a  trumpet-blast  to  wake  its  members  to  a 
sense  of  their  duty — so  long  these  meetings  of  ours 
will  be  not  only  right,  but  necessary — and  until  we 
have  turned  the  present  rout  of  our  nation  into 
resistance,  until  we  have  finally  succeeded  (as  I  be- 
lieve we  shall  succeed)  in  turning  that  resistance 
into  a  victory.  Above  all,  it  is  necessary  for  this 
pujpose  to  arouse  the  Church,  an,d  it  is  a  good  sign 
of  the  times  that  over  fourteen  thousand  clerg3^men 
of  the  Church  of  England  signed  a  petition  to  the 
archbishops  and  bishops,  which  resulted  in  the 
formation  of  the  remarkable  committee  of  the 
House  of  Lords  which  is  now  sitting,  and  which  is 
amassing  so  much  evidence  of  a  striking  character. 
The  action  of  all  the  churches  in  favor  of  total  ab- 
stinence is  becoming  more  and  more  marked,  but 
when  I  see  one  of  our  bishops  arraying  himself 
agamst  it,  and  quoting  Scripture  against  it — when 
I  see  another  using  exploded  sophisms  and  saying 
that  he  would  rather  see  England  free  than  En- 
gland sober — when  1  see  clergymen  preaching  in 
cathedrals  in  favor  of  the  beer  traffic  and  using  all 
the  futile  fallacies  that  had  been  used  for  a  genera. 


122  The  St-rprnt  and  the  Tiger. 

on,  I  think  that  the  Chorcli  has  not  arisen  to  a 
sense  ol  its  duty  in  the  matter,  and  that  it  has  not 
recoiMiizcd  the  overwhchning  necessity  for  its  ac* 
tion  in  the  matter,  for  indilTerencc  in  such  a  case  is 
as  much  as  trcaclicry.  The  facts  of  the  case  are 
tcnibie. 

"  Come,  sit  you  down, 
And  I  will  wrinjj  your  heart,  for  so  I  shall,  if  it  be  made  of 

penetrable  stuff. 
If  damning  custom  have  not  braced  it  so 
That  it  is  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense." 

We  have  only  to  look  at  the  gliaslly  pictures 
which  have  been  drawn  by  Hoi^arth  of  Gni  Alley 
and  Rum  Alley,  in  order  to  form  some  idea  of  the 
frif^htful  ravaii^es  which  drink  has  been  makin<^  in  our 
country  durin^"^  the  last  two  hundred  years,  or  to  the 
series  drawn  by  that  great  and  good  man  whom 
the  tcmperace  cause  has  just  lost — brave  George 
Cruikshank.  When  we  think  that  all  these  horrors 
sprung  from  a  cause  that  is  perfectly  curable,  that 
is  easily  remediable,  that  is  absolutely  preventable, 
then  we  can  not  help  asking,  How  long  do  we,  the 
people  of  England  and  Scotland,  intend  this  worse 
than  Turkish  and  worse  than  Russian  atrocities  to 
be  going  on  daily  and  hourly  among  us  as  the 
spasms  which  speak  of  a  still  more  profound  and 
universal  misery?     I  say  to  you — 

"  Can  such  things  be, 
And  overcome  us  like  a  summer  cloud. 
Without  our  special  wonder  ?  " 

For  all  I  know,  some  Aberdeen  newspaper  may 
charge  me  with  exaggeration,  but  in  answer  to  that 


TJie  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  123 

will  only  say  to  you,  take  up  any  newspaper  you 
Jike  for  a  week,  and  cut  out  all  the  accidents  and 
all  the  disasters  which  are  recorded  as  having  been 
caused  by  drink,  and  before  half  a  year  is  over,  if 
you  are  not  driven  to  be  a  total  abstainer,  it  nnist 
be  because  you  are  either  very  callous  as  to  the  suf- 
ferings of  your  neighbors,  or  else  because  you  feel 
that  that  particular  method  is  not  the  way  which 
you  should  adopt  to  cure  this  evil.  To  talk  of  ex- 
aggeration is  nonsense,  and  the  ghastly  record  of 
the  evils  of  the  drink-traffic  is  the  best  refutation 
of  the  charge  made  against  temperance  reformers. 
Now,  as  to  the  attitude  of  clergymen  in  regard  to 
the  drink-traffic,  I  think  there  is  nothing  excites  my 
scorn  and  indignation  more  than  a  man  who  carries 
his  reverence  for  Scripture  to  the  extent  of  hold 
ing  that  it  sanctions  the  use  of  drink.  The  Church 
is  not  yet  roused  to  a  sense  of  duty  in  the  matter, 
and  as  I  have  already  said,  its  condition  has  been 
up  to  this  time,  on  the  whole,  that  of  being  in- 
dolently acquiescent.  I  think  I  have  answered  the 
question  I  asked  at  the  beginning.  What  is  the  use 
of  these  temperance  meetings?  We  are  told  thdt 
they  are  of  no  avail.  It  is  by  these  means  and  by 
such  as  these  in  every  instance  that  great  reforms 
have  been  carried  on,  and  that  the  claims  of  vested 
interests  to  commit  public  injury  have  been  swept 
away.  It  was  by  these  means  that  the  slave  trad« 
was  abolished  ;  it  was  by  these  means  that  ragged 
schools  were  established ;  and  the  necessity  tor 
such  meetings  will  continue  so  long  as  such  an  evil 
as  this  exists.  It  is  only  by  enforcing  the  obligations 
of  duty  on  this  subject  that  the  justice  and  truth  of 
this  matter  can  ever  be  heard.     I  feel  convinced  if 


124  The  Serpent  and  the  Tiger. 

men,  if  Christ  inns,  have  a  heart  of  pitv  m  them 
have  any  spark  of  nobleness  in  them,  if  they  did 
not  become  tibial  abstainers,  they  would  use  every 
possible  means  in  their  power  to  show  that  it  •'.  an 
evil  which  is  destroyini,^  our  brothers  aiKi  sisters 
in  multitudes — which  is  staininy:  with  its  polluted 
and  {)estilential  stains  tlic  white  souls  of  those 
youni,^  jrjils  and  boys  whom  we  are  trying  to  save 
for  a  life  of  good;  that  they  would  do  their  best 
in  some  wr.y  or  other  to  save  the  continuance  of 
this  evil  in  the  midst  of  us. 

One  word  more,  and  I  have  done.  1  say  if  you 
see  a  gieat  conflagration,  and  see  a  great  mass  oi 
people  looking  on  at  it,  and  they  begiif  by  saying  it 
is  very  disastrous,  and  doing  a  great  deal  of  dam- 
age, but  still  doing  nothing  to  put  it  out,  and  at  last 
getting  so  familiar  with  it  that  they  go  and  warm 
their  hands  at  it,  and  then  argue  when  they  could 
enjoy  such  an  indulgence  as  that  in  cold  weather,  a 
coiillagration  is  rather  an  advantage  nationally 
than  otherwise.  As  long  as  such  a  state  of  things 
exists,  we  must  go  on  shouting  "Fire!  fire!"  un- 
til they  are  shamed  into  helping  us  to  |)ut  it  out. 
If  we  see  a  ship  going  along  in  full  sail  with  every 
sail  set.  and  with  the  wind  and  tide  straight  to- 
ward a  reef  on  which  we  know  that  the  ship  is  to 
be  shattered,  and  if  the  majority  of  the  crew  arc 
ignorant  or  indifferent  to  the  danger,  then  it  is  that 
we  must  have  down  the  sails  and  reverse  the  en- 
gines and  put  out  every  inlluence  it  is  possible  to 
keep  it  back;  and  if  we  are  able  to  do  this  much, 
and  with  all  our  power  against  the  wind  and  tide,  wc 
can  make  it  move  one  inch  an  hour  backward 
even  then   the  victory  is  won.     If  that  is  too  late 


TJie  Serpent  and  the  Tiger.  125 

and  the  vessel  has  struck  on  the  rocks,  we  must 
then  launch  the  lifeboat  to  save  the  perishing  crew. 
That  is  what  these  temperance  meetings  have 
been  doing  to  some  extent.  If  we  have  not  been 
able  to  quench  the  conflagration,  we  have  done 
something  to  stop  it;  if  we  have  not  been  able  to 
save  the  ship  altogether,  we  have  been  able  to 
do  something  for  its  safety ;  and  if  we  have  not 
been  able  to  save  all  the  crew,  we  have  at  least 
been  able  to  save  some  from  perishing.  Many  a 
brawny  arm  has  launched  the  lifeboat,  and  those 
who  are  too  weak  to  take  an  oar  can  at  least  send 
us  a  cheer  across  the  wave.  The  Legislature  has 
not  listened  to  us  yet,  and  thus  the  work  is  not 
done,  but  much  is  being  done.  If  the  Church  is 
not  yet  aroused,  it  is  being  aroused,  and,  as  I  said 
before,  clergymen  becoming  total  abstainers  are 
daily  increasing  in  number;  and  if  the  nation  has 
not  yet  been  aroused,  still  it  is  being  aroused,  and 
there  are  said  to  be  at  this  moment  four  million 
total  abstainers  in  England,  and  therefore  if  the 
Legislature  won't  listen  to  us  now,  they  will  listen 
to  us  in  a  short  time  hence,  when  we  speak,  as  we 
hope  to  speak  in  the  nation's  voice,  and  if  they  do 
not  pass  temperance  measures  now,  they  will  do  so 
when  we  come  with  the  people  knocking  at  the 
doors.  Then  a  common  victory  will  be  won.  We 
shall  see  God's  terrible  and  fiery  finger  shrivel  up 
the  falsehoods  from  the  seals  of  men.  The  work  is 
being  done  gradually  and  impeixeptibly,  but  it  is 
bemo-  done.  Look  at  the  mountain  sides  in  winter, 
clothed  as  they  are  with  the  apparently  immovable 
masses  of  colorless  snow  which  cover  the  whole 
mountain  slope,  and  you  would  think  it  impossible 


126  The  Serpent  and  the  Tigtr, 

that  these  vast  masses  of  snow  could  disappear,  and 
yet  winter  passes  into  sprini^,  and  crystal  by  crystal 
the  snow  melts  away  into  the  air,  and  then  spring 
passes  into  smnnier,  and  the  warm  sun  passes  over 
them,  and  hrst  one  snowflake  is  detached  and  then 
another,  and  these  gather  force  and  roll  with  a 
thundering  avalanche  into  the  valley,  taking  with 
them,  as  you  would  think,  the  whole  mountain  side, 
and  so  bv  these  gradual,  imperceptible,  and  silent 
influences  the  work  is  being  done,  even  when  it 
seems  most  stationary,  and  then,  if  you  go  a  few 
days  afterward,  what  was  frozen  and  repellant,  you 
will  see  is  a  beautiful  mountain  slope  with  green 
grass  upon  it,  and  with  myriads  of  sweet  and  trag' 
rant  flowers. 


OUR  DUTY  AS  A  NATION 

By  the  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


**  Come  Home."  This  expression  represents  a 
very  common  incident ;  but  what  words  can  rx- 
press,  what  imagination  can  even  conceive,  the 
amount  of  anguish  of  which  this  one  incident  is  but 
an  insignificant  item ! 

A  wife  is  trying  to  induce  her  husband  to 
leave  the  public-house  ;  trying,  that  is,  to  struggle 
against  an  influence  the  most  common,  the  most 
seductive,  the  most  deadly,  of  all  those  which  the 
spirits  of  evil  have  at  their  command  for  the  curse 
and  ruin  of  whole  nations,  and  the  misery  and  de- 
struction of  myriads  of  individual  lives.  For,  what 
is  the  history  of  myriads  of  lives  and  myriads  of 
homes  in  these  British  islands  alone?  We  spend 
princely  revenues  upon  education,  and  the  majority 
of  all  the  children  born  on  British  soil  have  now 
the  opportunity  of  soundly  acquiring  the  rudiments 
of  instruction.  To  a  certain  extent  more  educa- 
tion, as  it  means  less  ignorance,  means  also  more 
self-respect  and  less  vice.  But  there  is  one  most 
potent  enemy  al.  work  against  all  that  we  achieve 
in  the  spread  of  knowledge  and  enlightenment.  I 
need  hardly  name  it.  Ev^ery  judge,  every  magis- 
trate, every  clergyman,  every  philanthropist,  every 


128  Our  Duty  as  a  Nation. 

policeman  and  j^aolcr  knows  it  well ;  and  not  one 
ot  these  will  ever  tor  a  moment  hesitate  to  say  that 
this  enemy  is  intoxicating;-  drink. 

The  boys  ami  ^irls  leave  our  national  scIkk^Is 
about  the  a^e  of  thirteen.  Up  to  that  time  the 
teachinj;-,  the  discipline,  the  humanizinqf  tendencies 
ol  the  school  system — seconded  to  a  certain  extent 
by  the  control  of  all  but  the  worst  and  lowest 
homes— tend  to  keep  the  children  from  vice  and 
degradation.  Hut  ihe  inevitable  time  comes  when 
they  leafvc  school,  go  to  work,  become  almost  im- 
mediately independent,  and  not  unfreqnently  throw 
olT  every  vestige  of  parental  or  other  restraint. 
Now,  what  are  the  temptations  which  thev  have 
immediately  to  face.'  Bad  companions,  bad  lan- 
guage, low  places  of  amusement?  Yes,  these  no 
doubt;  but  these,  and  all  other  incentives  to  ruin, 
are  in  closest  alliance  with — are,  in  fact,  all  but  in- 
separable from — those  which  assail  them  daily  and 
almost  hourly  from  drunkenness  and  drink.  In  all 
towns,  and  in  many  country  places,  it  is,  as  a  rule, 
at  the  public-house  that  they  hear  the  lowest  and 
vilest  language  ;  it  is  at  the  public-house  that  they 
meet  with  the  worst  companions;  it  is  from  the 
public-house  that  they  are  allured  to  the  basest  and 
most  demoralizing  places  of  amusement  and  resort. 

And,  as  all  the  world  may  see,  these  public- 
houses  and  beer-shops  are  scattered  through  our 
great  cities  in  hundreds  and  thousands.  It  is  said 
that  we  have  98,955  public-houses  and  38,845  beer- 
shops  in  this  country;  and,  whatever  the  awful 
number  may  be,  this  at  least  is  certain,  that  the 
ein-palace  is  especially  the  pioneer  of  our  civiliza- 


Our  Duty  as  a  Nation.  129 

tion;  that  wherever  new  suburbs  spring  up  fr)r  the 
working  classes,  an  effort  is  always  made  to  seize 
the  most  conspicuous  corner  houses  for  the  sale  of 
drink  ;  and  that  no  working  man  can  walk  through 
London  at  any  hour,  from  early  morning  till  late 
night,  without  passing  house  after  house,  which  by 
its  glaring  lights  and  glittering  attractiveness 
allures  him  under  the  sway  of  his  most  powerful 
and  his  most  fatal  temptation. 

What  are  the  consequences?  The  first  conse- 
quence is  an  almost  universal  fondness  for  beer  and 
spirits  among  the  working  classes  ;  the  second  con- 
sequence is  the  frightful  prevalence  of  drunken- 
ness; the  third  is  the  appalling  multiplication  of 
pauperism,  brutal  violence,  degradation,  criminal- 
ity, lunacy,  disease,  and  untimely  deaths. 

Take  the  earliest  stage — mere  fondness  for  beer, 
and  the  constant  use  of  beer,  as  though  it  were  not 
a  mere  dubious  luxury,  but  a  necessary  article  of 
food.  It  might  be  thought  that  this,  at  any  rate,  is 
harmless.  So  far  is  this  from  being  the  case  that  it 
is  a  national  evil  of  the  most  immense  proportions. 
I  have  no  hesitation  at  all  in  saying  that  it  is  the 
chief  cause  of  pauperism.  If  the  poor  could  be 
persuaded  of  the  truth  that  alcohol  is  not  an  article 
of  food  or  a  source  of  strength,  and  if  they  could  be 
persuaded  to  lay  by  the  ;^36,ooo,ooo  which  they 
annually  spend  upon  it,  it  is  certain  that  two-thirds 
of  our  work-houses  could  be  closed,  and  that 
myriads  of  families  could  live  in  cleanliness  and 
comfort — self-respecting,  well  housed,  well  fed — 
who  nctw  drag  out  a  miserable  existence  on  the 
starvation  level,  and   whose   manl}^  rectitude  and 


I30  Oia  Duly  u.<  a  Nation. 

independence  is  utterly  broken  down  by  having  to 
rely  on  parish  relief  or  on  promiscuous  cliarity. 

But  the  evil  of  pauf)erisin,  immense  as  it  is.  is  yet 
*ar  less  deadly  than  those  which  arise  from  the 
traffic  in  intoxicating^  liquor  when  the  fondness  for 
'irink  has  passed  into  actual  drunkenness.  It  is  the 
insidious  and  fatal  peculiarity  of  alcohol  that  the 
use  of  it  leads  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  and 
women  insensibly,  rapidly,  and  almost  inevitably  to 
its  abuse;  and  before  the  maddening  intensity  of 
the  craving  caused  by  drunkenness  all  moral  con- 
siderations are  shrivelled  up  like  tow  at  the  breath 
of  flame.  Well  may  the  young  wife  try  every  pos- 
sible inducement  to  wean  her  husband  from  the 
very  first  signs  and  beginnings  of  intemperance. 
The  growth  of  that  fatal  vice  means  the  utter  de- 
struction of  every  element  of  happiness  in  the 
house.  The  fires  of  hell  begin  very  soon  to  mingle 
with  those  on  the  drunkard's  hearth.  Work  is 
neglected — character  is  lost — self-respect  is  de- 
stroyed. The  money  which  should  have  been 
spent  on  the  needs  of  the  family  is  grossly  squan- 
dered in  brutish  self-indulgence.  The  wife  has  to 
slave  and  starve^  and  well  for  her  if  she-too  does 
not  fling  herself  in  sheer  misery  over  the  ^(S^e.  of 
the  same  terrible  abyss.  The  home,  even  if  it  is 
not  transferred  to  a  fouler  neighborhood,  rapidly 
becomes  bare,  dirt}',  unwholesome,  comfortless 
j  The  children  are  left  unwashed,  unkempt,  un- 
trained^ and  those  of  them  who  are  born  after  Uie 
drunkenness  has  become  a  chronic  condition  are 
either  ricketty,  or  idiotic,  or  are  endowed  with  the 
hereditary  instinct  which  is  only  too  likely  to  make 


Our  Duty  as  a  Nation.  131 

their  lives  a  curse  to  their  neighbors  and  a  burden 
to  themselves.  In  such  families,  when  the  husband 
staggers  back  drunk,  perhaps  also  to  find  a 
drunken  wife,  the  lairs  which  they  call  their  homes 
are  torn  asunder  by  fights  and  quarrels  that  dis- 
grace and  disturb  the  whole  neighborhood,  and  are 
not  unfrequently  rife  with  tragedies  of  unspeakable 
horror.  Men,  who  in  past  days  were  manly  and 
honorable,  kick,  and  beat,  and  maim,  and  murder 
those  whom  they  once  vowed  to  love  and  honor, 
and  often  end  their  miserable,  and  degraded,  and 
maddened  lives  on  the  hangman's  scaffold  or  in  the 
felon's  cell.  Even  women — or  those  who  were 
once  those  gracious  things — women  who,  but  for 
drink,  might  have  worn  in  unpolluted  womanhood 
the  rose  of  matronly  honor — sink  into  a  horrible 
and  shameless  abandonment  of  every  better  instinct, 
which  lowers  them  below  the  level  of  humanity. 
"Drink,"  says  Father  Nugent,  of  Liverpool,  "is 
making  terrible  havoc  upon  the  female  population 
of  this  town — not  only  demorahzing  the  young,  and 
leading  them  step  by  step  into  vice  and  the  lowest 
depths  of  crime,  but  destroying  the  sacred  charac- 
ter of  family  life,  and  changing  wives  and  mothers 
into  brutal  savages.  The  poker,  the  knife,  the  bot- 
tle, and  the  glass  have  become  the  ordinary 
weapons  of  attack  and  defense  under  its  uncontrol- 
lable influence,  producing  the  most  fatal  conse- 
quences. Not  a  week  passes  without  some  one 
being  brought  to  the  prison^  whom  drink  has  mad- 
dened and  robbed  of  all  female  decency,  whose 
language  and  actions  are  so  horrible  that  they 
seem  no  longer  rational  beings   but  fiends  '     That 


132  Our  Duty  as  a  Nation. 

iS  a  terrible  testimony  ;  hut  it  is  testimony  which 
inipjlu  be  adchiccd,  antl  has  aj^ain  and  again  been 
adduced  from  well-nii^h  every  great  town  in  I'^ng- 
land  and  Scothmd— all  of  whicli  are  at  this  moment 
sufleiing  from  a  curse  which  is  being  continued, 
and  increased,  and  mulii plied  fn^m  generation  to 
gcneralion,  and  from  age  to  age,  and  in  comparison 
with  which  those  horrors  were  as  nothing  which 
England  has  spent  millions  of  her  treasure  tf)  avert, 
and  shed  rivers  of  her  blood  to  avenge  and  remedy. 

To  do  away  with  this  ghastly  curse,  to  wipe  this 
fretting  plague-sj»ot  from  our  national  lile,  to  save 
another  generation  from  the  burden,  the  shame, 
and  the  ruin  which  one  preventable  vice  has  in- 
flicted on  our  own,  is  emphatically  the  task  which 
we  of  this  generation  have  to  do.  No  work  tha*^ 
any  nation  ever  had  to  do  can  be  more  immediately 
and,  indeed,  overwhelmingly  important.  Our 
fathers  went  to  the  stake  for  religious  liberty;  they 
died  in  battle  to  win  us  civil  freedom;  they  faced 
trial,  and  difficulty,  and  opposition,  and  obloquy  to 
further  education,  to  reform  prisons,  to  liberate 
England  from  the  disgrace  of  the  slave  trade. 
What  we  have  to  do,  if  we  would  be  worthy  of 
our  fathers,  worthy  of  our  country,  worthy  of  our 
Christian  profession,  is  to  enable  our  people  to  con- 
quer or  to  mitigate  the  violence  of  a  sin  which  is 
far  more  fatal  to  our  national  morality,  and,  there- 
fore, to  our  national  glory,  than  unreformed  prisons 
or  ill-treated  and  kidnapped  slaves. 

But  how  arc  we  to  take  part  in  this  great,  tnis 
most  blessed  and  most  necessary  work  ?  One  very 
easy  and  obvious  way  of  doing  so  is  open  to  us  alL 


Our  Duty  as  a  Nation.  133 

We  can,  in  the  present  distress  and  danger,  become 
total  abstainers  ourselves.  If  we  can  not  do  this 
wiihout  an  effort,  the  effort  may  be  very  desirable 
for  our  own  sakes ;  if  we  can  do  it  without  an 
eff.)rt,  it  may  be  only  right  to  do  it  for  the  sake  of 
others.  Another  way  of  furthering  the  work  of 
temperance  reform  is  to  do  what  we  can,  socially 
and  politically,  to  awake  the  attention  of  the  Legis- 
lature to  the  eminent  importance  of  this  question. 
The  most  serious,  and  probably  the  most  effective, 
measure  lutherto  brought  under  the  notice  of  Par- 
liament is  Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson's  Permissive  Bill. 
That  bill  is  simply  intended  to  enable  the  people  to 
protect  themselves  from  that  which  they  have  found 
by  long  and  bitter  experience  to  be  an  overwhelm- 
ing peril.  Hitherto  Parliament  has  utterly  refused 
to  help  us.  They  can  not  and  will  not  refuse  if  the 
demand  comes  to  them  in  a  nation's  voice,  and  if 
that  voice  speak  in  the  accents  of  men  who  are 
resolutely  and  indignantly  determined  to  use  every 
means  in  their  power  to  save  a  new  generation 
from  a  sin  which  has  been,  to  an  extent  so  utterly 
deplorable,  the  ruin  an;i  the  curse  of  this  generation 
in  which  our  lives  are  cast. 


ABSTINENCE  FROM  EVIL. 

By  the  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


"Abstain  from  all  appearance  of  evil."  The 
true  meaning  of  this  verse  is,  "Abstain  from  every 
form  or  kind  of  evil ;  "  yet,  though  the  other  read- 
ing be  erroneous,  it  gives  us  a  very  noble  meaning. 
It  is  narrated  of  two  Jewish  patriots — Pappus,  and 
his  brother  Julian — that,  knowing  their  firm  resolve 
not  to  drink  Pagan  wine  lest  they  should  seem  to 
sanction  idolatry,  Rufus,  the  Roman  Governor, 
ordered  -water  to  be  served  to  them,  but  in  glasses 
so  colored  that  it  should  look  to  the  multitude  as 
though  they  were  drinking  wine.  Seeing  at  once 
the  object  of  the  deception,  they  sternly  refused 
the  water,  and  faced  death  by  terrible  martyrdom 
rather  than  taste  it.  This  was  a  noble  spirit;  it  is 
one  more  of  the  many  illustrations  from  the  lives 
of  the  truly  brave  and  heroically  good,  that  they 
will  not  only  refuse  to  do  wrong — will  not  only  say 
with  Joseph,  "  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness, 
and  sin  against  God  ? '! — but  that  they  will  not 
even  suffer  it  to  be  imagined  that  they  countenance 
wrong,  when  their  actual  conduct  is  right.  The 
duty  of  this  absolute  aloofness  from  2vil  is  taught 
even  by  heathen  morality  :  "  In  a  field  of  melons," 
says  the  Chinese  proverb,  "  do  not  stoop  to  tie 
your  shoe ; "  "  under  a  plum-tree  do  not  adjust 
your  cap  ;  " — in  both  instances  for  the  same  reason 


13^  Absthicuce  from  Evil. 

— lest  }  ou  should  even  seem  to  wish  to  steal.  And 
the  principle  that  underlies  these  precepts  and  ex- 
nmplcs  is  the  great  principle  of  Scripture,  "Abhor 
that  which  is  evil;  cleave  to  that  which  is  c^ood  ;" 
"  Enter  not  into  the  path  of  the  wicked,  and  go  not 
in  the  way  of  evil  men.  Avoid  it;  pass  not  by  it; 
turn  from  it,  and  pass  away." 

I  have  been  asked  to  speak  to  you,  my  brethren, 
on  the  subject  of  temperance,  and  I  desire  simply 
and  humbly  to  fulfdl  that  duty.  Were  it  not  that 
the  kindness  of  others  in  this  great  city  has  laid  on 
me  burdens  somewhat  beyotul  my  strength,  1 
might  have  spoken  more  worlhily  than  1  now  can 
do.  But  in  the  endeavor  to  perform  such  small 
good  as  God  may  place  in  our  power,  it  is  a  duty 
not  to  shrink  from  efi'ort,  and  ncjt  at  all  to  care  for 
self.  Now,  I  would  ask  you,  my  friciuls,  not  to 
think  of  the  speaker,  or  his  imperfections,  but 
simply  and  solely  whether  what  he  says  be  true. 
And  if  it  be  true,  sufier  not  the  poor  personalities 
of  criticism  to  hover  at  the  church  door,  like  fowls 
in  the  air,  to  take  away  the  good  seed  from  your 
hearts.  The  inspiration  that  comes  from  heaven, 
remember,  is  often  subjective,  not  objective;  it  Iw 
in  the  glow  of  the  hearer's  heart,  not  in  the  fire  of 
the  speaker's  lips.  God,  indeed,  sends  forth  His 
seraphim  to  toucii.  with  a  living  coal  from  the 
altar,  the  mouth  of  whom  he  will.  Bui  when  it  is 
to  Israel  that  he  speaks,  Moses  may  not  be  eloquent, 
yet  he  utters  the  fiery  law  ;  and  because  their  own 
hearts  are  faithful,  they  feel  that  there  is  the  palpi- 
tating splend-or  behind  his  shrouding  veil.  So  be 
it  with  us. 

"  Lord,  grant  us  this  abiding  grace, 
Thy  word  and  saints  to  know  ; 


Abstincttce  from  Evil.  137 

To  pierce  the  veil  on  Moses'  face. 
Although  his  speech  be  slow." 

And  though  I  am  bidden  to  speak  to  you  about 
tcnriperance,  the  point  of  view  from  which  I  shall 
speak  is  that  of  total  abstinence.  It  is,  I  know,  the 
unpopular  view,  the  depreciated  view,  the  despised 
view.  By  taking  it  I  rank  myself  among  those  of 
whom  some  speak  as  unpractical  bigots  and  igno- 
rant fanatics.  But,  because  I  believe  it  in  the  pres- 
ent need  to  be  the  only  effective  remedy  for  an 
otherwise  hopeless  evil,  therefore  I  take  it  undeter- 
red. Public  opinion,  my  brethren,  is  a  giand 
power.  It  is  a  mighty  engine  for  good  if  we  can 
array  it  on  our  side.  He  who  despises  it  must  be 
either  more  or  less  than  man  ;  he  must  be  puffed 
up  by  a  conceit  which  mars  his  usefulness,  or  he 
must  be  too  abject  to  be  reached  by  scorn.  He, 
tlierefore,  that  affects  to  despise  public  opinion, 
stands  self-condemned  ;  but  yet  public  opinion  has, 
many  a  time,  been  arrayed  on  the  side  of  wilhng ; 
and  he  who  is  not  afraid  to  brave  it  in  defense  of 
righteousness — he  who,  in  a  cause  which  he  knows, 
to  be  good,  but  which  his  fellow-men  do  not  yet 
understand,  is  willing  to  be  ranked  among  the 
idiots  and  fools — he  is  a  partaker  Avith  all  those 
who,  through  faith  and  patience,  have  inherited  the 
promises.  It  was  thus — it  was  for  the  cause  of 
scientific  truth — that  Roger  Bacon  bore  his  long 
imprisonment,  and  Galileo  sat  contented  in  his  cell; 
it  was  *:hus — it  was  for  the  cause  of  religious  truth 
— that  Luther  stood  undaunted  before  kings;  it 
was  thus  that,  to  wake  the  base  slumbers  of  a 
greedy  age,  Wesley  and  Whitfield  were  content  to 
"  stand  pilloried  on  infamy's  high  stage,  and  bear 


138  Abstinence  from  i.vti. 

the  pcllinic  scorn  >f  liall  an  asjc ; "  it  \va<i  thus  that 
Wilborforcc  facrd  in  Parliament  the  sneers  and 
rajje  <>l  wealthy  slave-owners;  it  was  thus,  '*  in  the 
teeth  of  clenched  anfa^jonisms,"  that  education  was 
established,  that  inis>ions  were  founded,  that  the 
cause  of  reli;^ious  liberty  was  won.  The  persecuted 
abject  of  to-day  is  the  saint  and  exemplar  of  to- 
morrow. St.  John  enters  the  tht  i  streets  of 
the  capital  of  Asia  as  a  d«-  i  v.i.iiiie;in  and  an 
unnoticed  exile  ;  but,  w  hen  i;<  hm  .itions  have  passed 
away,  it  is  still  hts  name  which  clinj^s  to  its  indis- 
tini^uishable  ruins.  St.  Tn  ■!  ^i.inds^  in  his  ra^j^jtd 
paberdinc,  too  mean  for  O  -  supreme  contempt ; 
but  tt>-day  the  cathedral  dedicated  to  his  hj)nor 
towers  over  the  vast  imperial  city  where  the  name 
of  Gallio  is  not  so  much  as  heard.  "Count  we 
over  the  chosen  heroes  of  this  earth,"  says  a  great 
orator,  **  and  I  will  show  you  the  men  who  st(K)d 
alone,  while  those  for  w  hom  they  toiled  and  ago- 
nizcd  pouretl  on  them  contumely  and  scorn.  They 
were  ijlorious  iconoclasts,  sent  out  to  break  down 
the  Dagons  worshipetl  by  their  fathers.  The  very 
martyrs  of  yesterday,  who  were  h<H)ted  at,  whom 
the  mob  reviled  and  expatriated  ;  to-day,  the  chil- 
dren \A  the  very  gencj-ation  who  mobbed  and  re- 
viled them  are  gatherin?^  up  their  scattered  ashes 
to  deposit  them  in  the  gt)ldcn  urn  of  their  national 
history  I  " 

Not  for  one  moment  do  I  pretend,  my  brethren, 
that  if  you  adopt  this  cause  you  will  need  any  hero- 
ism, any  great  sclf-abnei(atit)n,  any  extraordinary 
sacritice,  or  that  you  will  have  anythinjj  worth 
spcakm^;  of  to  bear  in  avoucliinij  it.  But  the 
principle  is  the  same.  If,  tt)  help  your  fellows,  you 
were  bidden  to  do  some  great  thing,  and  you  have 


Abstinence  from  Evil.  139 

done  it,  how  much  more  when  3-ou  are  merely 
asked  to  abandon  a  needless,  a  trivial,  and — unless 
a  mass  of  strong-  evidence  be  disproved — a  deleteri- 
ous indulgence  ?  The  time  when  abstainers  were 
persecuted  has  passed  away.  Milton,  iu  his  day, 
thinks  it  would  be  an  impossible  stretch  of  gener- 
osity for  even  Puritans  to  "  lose  their  sack  for  the 
certain  abolishing  of  so  great  a  sin ; "  and  who  is 
there,  he  asks,  the  holiest,  "  who  less  loves  his  rich 
canary  at  meals,  though  it  be  fetched  from  places 
that  hazard  the  religion  of  them  that  fetch  it,  and 
thoug'h  it  makes  his  neighbor  drunk,  out  of  the 
same  tun  ?  "  Howard,  the  illustrious  John  Howard, 
who  has  left  his  name  like  a  beacon  fire  on  the  hills 
of  Christian  self-sacrifice,  was  a  total  abstainer  ;  yet 
he  sank  so  sensitively  from  ridicule,  that  he  always 
ordered  the  wine  which  he  never  drank.  Even 
your  illustrious  countryman,  Thomas  Guthrie, 
went  with  positive  tremor  to  the  table  of  Lord 
Jeffreys,  in  the  then  despised  fanaticism  of  total 
abstinence.  All  tJiat,  thank  God,  is,  through  the 
labor  of  good  men  and  brave  m.en,  entirely  changed. 
In  the  halls  of  great  colleges,  at  the  banquets  of 
illustrious  statesmen,  at  the  hospitable  boards  of 
wealthy  nobles,  I  can  thankfully  testify  that  you  may 
now  see  many  a  man  whose  sole  drink,  like  that  of 
Samson,  is  from  the  crystal  brook.  In  the  upper 
classes  the  victory  of  total  abstinence  is  so  far  won 
that  it  has  enforced  its  own  respectful  recognition. 
But  they  who  hav^e  achieved  that  result  have  not 
all  lived  to  see  it.  The  army  that,  under  the  eye 
of  their  great  leader,  Wellington,  crossed  the  foamy 
bar  of  the  Bidassoa  into  France,  was  not  the  same 
army  that  won  his  mighty  victories  in  Spain.  They 
lay  dead  on  the  heights  of  Busaco,  or  in  the  breach 


14^  A  bstinence  from  Evil. 

of  Badajoz,  Along"  the  whole  line  of  \irtorious 
march  were  scattered  the  bones  of  those  who  did 
not  live  to  gaze  on  hostile  France  from  its  barrier 
mountain  slopes,  or  "  to  see  the  spray  as  it  broke  in 
foam  on  the  bar  of  the  Bidassoa."  They  were 
younger  men  who  reaped  the  laurels  of  conquest 
which  the  brave  hands  of  those  dead  veterans  had 
sown  ;  but  other  and  yet  sterner  battles  were  before 
them  ;  and  who  would  not  have  cried  shame  upon 
the  laggard  who,  even  then,  would  have  shrunk 
from  any  suffering  in  his  country's  cause  ?  Even 
so  with  you.  If  you  join  this  holy  struggle  to  en- 
sure a  temperance  reform,  vou  will  not  have  to  en- 
dure all  that  they  endured  who  now  sleep  in  their 
nameless  graves ;  but  much  has  yet  to  be  borne 
and  done,  and,  if  it  is  ever  to  be  done,  it  can  only 
be  b}^  our  enlisting  heart  and  soul  into  the  cause 
the  generation  Avhich  is  to  follow  in  our  steps;  by 
flashing  into  their  minds  "  the  epidemic  of  noble, 
ness,"  which  shall  induce  tJiem  also  to  use  personal 
effort,  and  to  make  personal  sacrifice,  to  save  their 
brethren  and  their  country,  ere,  forever,  it  be  too 
late. 

My  brethren,  I  need  not  tell  3^ou  of  the  horrors 
caused  by  drink.  The  very  city  in  which  your  lot 
is  cast  is  under  the  deadly  blight  of  it.  It  is  as- 
serted, from  statistical  records,  that  London  is  more 
drunken  than  Paris,  and  Liverpool  than  London, 
and  Glasgow  than  Liverpool.  It  is  the  national 
vice  of  England  ;  and,  alas  !  it  is  of  Scotland,  too. 
Yes,  even  of  Scotland,  the  land  of  exceptional  edu- 
cation; the  land  of  exceptional  intelligence;  the 
land  of  exceptional  patriotism  ;  the  land  of  ex- 
ceptional loyalty ;  the  land  of  the  Covenant  and  of 
the    Westminster    Confession ;   the  land   of  John 


Abstinence  from  Evil.  141 

Knox  and  Andrew  Melville;  the  land  of  Bruce 
and  the  Douglas  ;  the  land  which  was  ev^en  yester- 
day the  home  of  Edward  Irving-,  and  Thomas 
Guthrie,  and  Norman  Macleod  ;  the  land  whose 
sons  fought  at  Bannockburn  for  their  country,  and 
at  Culloden  for  their  king  ;  the  land  where  the 
Sabbath  is  the  pearl  of  days,  and  where  the  West- 
minster Catechism  has  borne  for  centuries  its  noble 
witness  that  the  chief  end  of  man  is  to  live  for  the 
glory  of  God,  and  to  enjoy  Him  forever  hereafter. 
Yes,  even  of  this  land  of  sainthood  and  chivalry, 
drunkenness,  the  base  and  brutal  vice  of  drunken- 
ness, is  the  national  sin  !  You  know,  better  than 
a  stranger  can  tell  you,  that  your  land,  too,  is  a 
victim,  an  almost  helpless  victim,  to  this  scathing, 
debasing,  degrading,  despicable,  but  perfectly 
curable,  perfectly  remediable,  sin.  Why  need  I 
tell  you  of  the  horrors  of  drunkenness?  Have  3'ou 
not  seen  them?  Do  you  not  daily  see  them  with 
your  own  eyes?  In  your  national  history  does  not 
the  wasted  figure  of  Prince  Charles  Edward  rise 
before  you — beautiful  no  longer,  noble  no  longer, 
beloved  no  longer — sinking  dishonored  into  a 
drunkard's  grave?  In  your  literal"}^  history  rises 
there  not  before  you,  with  the  solemn  agony  not 
yet  faded  from  his  noble  features,  the  figure  of  hiro 

"  Who  walked  in  glory  and  in  joy, 
Following  his  plough  upon  the  mountain  side," 

to  emphasize  the  warning  of  another  countryman, 
that  "  this  accursed  vice  has  changed  into  ashes 
the  laurel  crown  aroimd  the  head  of  genius  and — ■ 
the  wings  of  the  poet  scorched  in  its  nell-fiic 
flames — he  wiho  once  played   m   the   light  of  sun- 


142  Abstiftt'HCf  from  Eft!. 

heuns  has  crawled  basely  in  tijc  c1u>l  •  Do  yoo 
not  sec  ill  vour  own  streets  the  dramshops  there 
most  al)oiindiii^  where  the  viaxitHitm  of  poverty 
leaves  men  with  the  minimum  of  force  to  resist 
temptation?  Have  you  not  marked  its  ravages 
in  fallen  companions,  in  deposed  ministers,  in  fair 
lives  hlij^htcd  as  by  a  Fury's  breath  ?  I  lave  you  not 
lu-.ird  of  mothers  cursed  by  their  sons  because  of 
it?  of  husbands  and  wives  bcatin^^  each  other  to 
death  because  of  it  ?  of  parents  sinkinj;^  into  the 
i^rave  broken-hearted  because  of  it  ?  of  every  sanc- 
tity of  lite  made,  because  of  it,  bankrupt  of  bless- 
ing and  prolific  of  bitterness?  Our  jails  choked 
to  the  dcKir  by  drink;  our  asylums  cnnvded  by 
drink  with  the  maniac  and  the  idiot;  our  churches 
emptied  ;  our  sch(x>ls  defeated ;  our  missions  ren- 
dered fruitless;  our  people  made  poor,  diseased, 
brutal,  reckless,  wicked,  by  this  inexcusable  scan- 
dal,  this  horrible  source  of  degradation  and  pau- 
peiism.  Is  all  this  nothing  ?  "  Is  it  nothing  to  you, 
all  ye  that  pass  by?"  Unless  you  have  purposely 
closed  your  eyes,  you  Jknaiu  these  things  ;  and  if  you 
know  them,  arc  you  a  man  ?  are  you  a  Christian  ? 
have  you  a  heart  ?  have  you  any  human  pity  ?  have 
you  one  spark  of  nobleness  left  in  you,  if  you  can 
look  on  them  with  indifferent  acquiescence?  And 
if  you  arc  not  indifferent,  what  can  you  do?  Be 
temperate.  My  brethren,  I  should  not  think  thai 
worth  saying  to  you  ;  I  should  not  have  been  asked 
to  come  four  hundred  miles  to  tell  you  that.  In 
this  particular  struggle,  temperance  is  worth  noth- 
ing. Temperate  !, of  course  you  are  temperate,  if 
ycni  be  even  gentlemen.  No  Christian,  I  hope, 
would  feci  a  spark  of  pride  in  saying  that  he  did 
not  know    what    intoxication  was.      It  is  no  mat- 


Abstinejice  from  Evil.  143 

ter  of  pride  for  a  man  to  be  able  to  say  that  he  has 
not,  by  greedy  drinking,  reduced  himself  to  bestial 
degradation.  No  !  I  come  to  ask  you  for  something 
much  more.  I  come  to  plead  with  you  for  a  per- 
fect, a  certain,  a  final  remedy.  I  come  to  ask  you 
to  take  stronger  part  in  that  struggle,  which  even 
the  calm,  wise  voice  of  Richard  Cobden  told  us 
years  ago  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  moral  and  social 
reform.  It  may  not  be  (we  will  suppose)  your  indi- 
vidual duty  to  take  part  in  this  particular  effort.  I 
condemn  no  man.  I  judge  no  man.  Never  against 
even  publicans  or  gin-distillers  have  I  or  will  I  ut- 
ter a  single  word.  But  this  I  say,  that,  except  by 
total  abstinence,  you  will  in  this  crisis  do  no  real 
abiding  good.  Some  of  you  will  be  ministers. 
Man}' of  you  are  fathei"s ;  many  of  you  are  Sab- 
bath-school teachers.  If  you  take  your  wine,  or 
your  whisky,  because  you  like  it,  or  because  you 
think  you  need  it,  your  people,  your  sons  and 
daughters,  the  poor  children  whom  you  teach  will 
do  so  likewise,  and  many  of  them,  by  a  natural,  in- 
evitable consequence  —  a  consequence  which  is 
purely  physical  as  well  as  moral  in  its  awful  char- 
acter— will  ^o  so  to  excess  ;  and  say  to  you, 

"  But,  good  my  brother. 
Do  not,  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do. 
Point  us  the  steep  and  thorny  path  to  heaven, 
While,  Hke  a  puffed  and  reckless  libertine. 
Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads, 
And  recks  not  his  own  rede  !  " 

If  you,  for  your  own  pleasure,  or  your  own  fancied 
need,  will  row  about  above  the  rapids,  you  may  be 
thrilled  too  late  by  their  shriek  of  anguish,  but 
think  not  that  they  will  heed  your  voice  before^ 


144  Abstinence  from  Evil. 

hand,  when  it  warns  them  lest  they  be  swept  over 
the  leapinsj^  cataract.  •'  Then  "  (in  the  *'  Pil;^t iin's 
Pro^jress  ")  **  Christian  called  to  Demas,  sayini^,  '  Is 
not  the  place  tlani^erous  ?  hath  it  not  hindered 
many  in  their  pil^rimaj^^e  ?  *  *  Not  very  dansj^erous 
said  Demas,  *  except  to  those  that  arc  careless.' 
lint  'fit /in  I  he  bin  shed  as  he  spake  !  " 

Consider  then,  my  brethren,  whether  God  calls 
you  or  no  to  help  in  rcmovinj^  from  your  country 
its  deadliest  cuise  ;  but  this  1  .s;iy  to  you,  that,  if  he 
does,  you  can  only  do  it  effectually  by  bcinp^  an  ab- 
stainer. Now,  those  who  ari^ue  with  a  man  in  favtif 
of  that  which  he  likes,  in  favor  of  a  pleasant  cus* 
l(;:;i,  in  favor  of  a  popular  practice,  arj^ued  with 
him  in  shorthand  ;  but  he  who  would  run  countei 
to  vulpar  customs,  he  who  is  not  afraid  "to  smite 
the  hoary  head  of  inveterate  abuse,'"  must  be  pre- 
pared to  face  at  the  first  stage  violence,  at  the  sec- 
ond ridicule,  and  at  the  third  —  for  we  have  already 
stormed  those  two  redoubts — the  heaped  fascines 
of  plausible  objection.  We  arc  told,  f()rso<ith,  that 
total  abstinence  is  morose,  that  it  is  .Manich.xan,  that 
it  trenches  on  the  province  of  the  baptismal  vow, 
that  it  invades  the  true  functions  of  the  Church, 
that  it  isa  violation  of  Scripture.  These  cobwebs  of 
miserable  sophistry,  had  time  permitted,  I  would 
have  oj'.adiy  swept  away  ;  but  I  must  conclude,  and 
amon<;  many  and  pressinj^  grounds  on  which  it 
might  well  be,  if  nut  your  direct  and  positive  duty, 
at  least  your  strength  and  your  safety  and  your 
hcnor,  to  deny  yourself  an  infinitesimal  pleasure  to 
further  an  infinite  gain,  I  would  touch  in  conclusion 
on  two  alone. 

The  first  is  the  blessing  and  the  duty  of  a  simple 
life.     Our  lot  has  fallen  in  hard  times.     Wc  live  in 


Abstinence  from  Evil.  145 

a  very  crowded  country.  It  is  a  nation  of  toiling 
fathers,  of  crowded  professions,  of  diminished  pa- 
tronage, of  abolished  sinecures,  of  portionless 
daughters,  of  sons  educated,  but  unemployed.  Life 
has  become  for  most  men  a  ceaseless  strug-ofle.  It 
is  a  time  of  depressed  commerce,  of  stagnating 
trade,  of  intensified  competition,  of  glaring  contrasts 
between  colossal  wealth  among  the  few  and  among 
the  many  painful  struggle  and  ghastl}^  poverty. 
Wars  are  in  the  air  and  rumors  of  war.  There  are 
social  problems  around  us  of  unequaled  gravity; 
the  growth  of  population,  the  relations  of  capital 
and  labor,  the  place  which  England  is  to  hoid 
among  the  empires  of  the  world.  It  may  be  a 
question  whether  in  the  advance  of  civilization  we 
may  not  have  contracted  some  of  its  deadliest  vices, 
and  drawn  into  our  veins  the  virus  of  its  most  cor- 
rupting luxury.  Never,  at  an\'  rate,  considering  the 
battle  of  life,  was  it  more  pressingly  incumbent 
upon  young  men,  even  for  the  sake  of  their  own 
happiness,  to  take  high  labor  for  their  portion ;  to 
be  scornfully  indifferent  of  mere  luxury;  to  reduce 
life  to  its  simplest  elements: 

"  To  sit  self-governed  in  tlie  fien^  prime 
Of  youth,  obedient  at  the  feet  of  law." 

It  is  to  such  a  )'outh,  trained  in  simplicity,  strong 
in  self-conquest,  like  the  Nazarites  of  old,  temper- 
ate and  brave  and  contented,  and  full  of  holy  rev- 
erence and  manly  courage,  that  we  look  to  uphold 
the  ancient  honor  of  this  virtuous  and  godly  island  ; 
and  the  very  first  and  most  obvious  step  in  such  a 
simplicity,  in  such  a  scorning  of  self-indulgence,  is 
to  abandon   that  intoxicating  drink,  which,  as  sci- 


146  Abstinence  from  livil. 

encc  has  indisputablv  |>rovccl,  is  n(>t.a  iiccc«s;»ry 
food;  and  which  if  it  be  not,  as  I  bcHcvc,  a  positive 
source  for  most  men  of  sickness  and  weakness,  is 
not  at  any  rate  a  source  of  h"allh  or  strenj^th ; 
which  weakens  the  power  of  the  intellect  and 
blunts  the  sensibilities  of  the  spirit ;  which,  if  there 
be  any  evil  in  us,  tends  to  stir  up  all  the  evil,  and 
if  there  l)e  any  ^ood  in  us,  to  encarnalize  all  the 
pood,  (iranted  that  it  is  a  pleasure— but  it  is  a 
pleasure  of  all  the  least  needful;  of  all  the  most 
dani^erous  ;  of  all  the  one  which  can  most  easily  be 
supersedetl  by  others  transcendently  more  noble. 
The  happy  warrior  of  the  future,  independent  for 
mirth  on  a  chemical  infusion,  will  desire  not  a  low 
pleasure,  but  a  rational  happiness,  and  on  the  very 
lowest  ground,  will  scorn  to  heap  up  his  contribu- 
tion to  that  "  monstrous  pyramid  of  gold,"  which 
a  strugirling  nation,  to  its  own  destruction,  spends 
— nay  wastes,  nay  squanders — on  the  very  meanest 
of  animal  indulgences. 

And.  secondly,  I  will  urge  you  the  duty  of  self- 
denial  for  the  sake  of  others.  If  you  arc  fond  of 
drink,  abandon  it  before  it  be  too  late  for  your  own 
sake  ;  if  vou  are  not  fond  of  it,  it  will  cost  you 
nothing  to  give  it  up.  We  are  all  face  to  face  with 
a  hideous,  a  degrading,  a  colossal  evil.  The  Legis- 
lature either  can  not  or  will  not  help  us.  Warning, 
preaching,  moral  influence,  even  extended  educa- 
tion fails  to  help  us;  increased  wages,  diminished 
hours  of  work,  only  deepen  our  peril  and  our  loss. 
There  is  one  way,  and  one  way  only  ;  but  that  is 
a  certain  and  an  easy  way  by  which,  not  merely  to 
check,  but  even  to  annihilate,  the  curse.  It  is  that 
svery  one  of  us  should  cease  to  contribute  to  this 
monster  evil   the  penny  of  a  contribution  or  the 


Abstinence  from  Evil.  147 

shadow  of  an  example.  The  use  of  that  deadly, 
peculiar,  and  wholly  unnecessary  substance,  is  so 
far  inseparable  from  the  abuse,  that  where  the  indi- 
vidual use  is,  there  the  national  abuse  will  be.  Un- 
restricted liquor  traffic  will,  to  the  end  of  time, 
mean  for  myriads  intense  temptation ;  temptation 
means  drunkenness  ;  drunkenness  means  degrada- 
tion, horror,  ruin,  crime.  You  are  a  Christian. 
Will  you  give  up  a  needless  luxury  to  help  in  sav- 
ing others  from  a  blasting  curse  ?  You  are  a  pa- 
triot. Will  you  give  up  a  poor  tickling  of  the  pal- 
ate, an  unwholesome  tingling  of  the  brain,  to  res- 
cue your  nation  from  a  blighting  degradation  ?  If 
you  do  not  help,  at  least  be  ashamed  to  hinder. 
Call  not  those  fanatics  who  would  clear  their 
conscience  from  every  taint  of  so  dangerous  a 
leaven.  Do  not  gild  a  self-indulgence  with  the 
Ophir  gold  of  Holy  Scripture,  or  hide  the  forehead 
of  a  luxury  under  the  phylactery  of  a  scribe. 

Not  long  ago  there  was  in  a  certain  colliery  an 
explosion  by  which  four  hundred  miners  were  sud' 
denly  hurled  amid  shattered  ruins  into  horrible 
death.  It  was  caused  by  a  single  miner  who  had 
opened  his  safety-lamp  to  light  his  pipe.  To  that 
pipe  of  tobacco  were  sacrificed  four  hundred  pre- 
cious lives  of  fathers,  of  husbands,  and  of  sons  ; 
and,  alas  !  on  the  bodies  of  not  a  few  of  those  who 
perished  in  that  fiery  blast  were  found  duplicate 
keys  by  which,  hitherto  with  impunity,  they  had 
done  the  same.  Alas  !  my  brethren,  England  and 
Scotland  are  such  a  mine;  they  are  full  of  the  ex- 
plosive fire-damp  of  intemperance.  In  all  societies 
it  hangs  dense  around  us  in  the  perilous  and  pesti- 
lential air.  Do  not  say  that  there  is  none  of  this 
flaming  peril  around  you  ;  that  you  may  open  your 


r.^S  Abslincncc  jrum  I'.viL 

snfclv-lamp  and  no  harm  come  of  it.  It  may  be  so; 
it  m;iv  not  be  so.  You  could  not,  you  would  not 
do  it  if  you  were  sure  that  there  wasdaiikjcr;  for 
that— as  you  see  at  once — would  be  a  deadly  selfish- 
ness and  an  atrocious  crime.  Hut  you  can  not  be 
sure  that  there  is  not  danpjcr.  Is  the  ^ain  worth 
the  risk  ?  Is  the  transient  and  animal  indidj^c-ncc 
worth  the  j)ermanent  and  eternal  peril?  No  harm 
mav  come  U^t  you  ;  but  if  harm  come  to  others  who 
aie  reassured  by  ^  i>ur  example,  you,  even  you  will 
have  helped  to  perpetuate  a  frij^hlful  curse,  whose 
efiects,  in  shatterinij  blast  after  shalterin|ij  blast, 
shall  be  flapped  in  echoes  of  ruin  and  of  misery, 
loo  late  for  i)enitence  amid  j^eneralions  yet  unborn. 
The  fatal  and  thv  fatally  common  key  of  that  satety- 
lam[)  is  what  is  called  "moderate  drinkinj^."  II  in 
this  particular  strug^i^lc,  you  would  be  patriots,  if  in 
this  matter  you  would  show  your  true  love  for  your 
brother-men  —  flini^''  it  away.  Like  the  Nazarites  of 
old.like  the  chiklrcn  of  Jonadab  the  son  of  Kechab, 
drink  neither  wine  nor  slronj^  drink,  so  long  as  by 
it  you  make  weak  or  cause  to  stumble,  or  tempt 
into  ruin  and  misery,  the  soul — the  priceless  soul — 
of  a  brother;  the  soul  of  your  brother  FOR 
WHOM  CIIKIST  DIED. 


AN 

ADDRESS  TO  TEACHERS 

ON 

TOTAL    ABSTINENCE. 

By  Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 


1  AM  not  goirif^  to  take  you  through  the  moral 
dangers  which  accrue  to  this  nation  from  drunken- 
ness, but  I  am  going-,  in  a  very  few  words,  and  not 
at  all  as  a  speech,  but  rather  in  conversational 
style,  to  point  out  to  you  how  very  much  you  may 
do  in  diminishing  that  which  is  undoubtedly  the 
most  growing,  the  most  multiform,  and  the  most 
ineradicable  of  our  national  evils.  We  of  the 
clergy  have  very  much  to  dt)  with  the  stupidity 
and  fixedness  of  adult  humanity.  We  have  to  deal 
with  those  whose  habits  are  formed.  You  know 
the  difficulty  of  reclaiming  the  habitual  driuikard, 
with  his  sodden  brain  ar.d  debilitated  will.  But 
■ou,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  have  to  do  willi  the 
young  while  they  are  still  uuvitiated  b^^  Lheteirible 
craving,  and  I  do  think  you  may  exercise  a  most 
potent  and  most  beneficial  influence  over  the  fu* 
ture  of  England.     You  know  it  was  that  great  and 


I50  1"     ],/Jrtss  to   Teachers 

wise  Siatcsman,  Kicharcl  Cobdcn,  who  said  that  the 
IcniperaDCC  reformation  lay  at  the  very  basis  of  all 
social  and  political  reform.  I  do  think  you  could 
no  have  a  more  splendid  ambition  than  to  take 
vour  part  in  brinj^iui^  about  the  immense  reforn], 
which  will  not  be  wroup;ht  in  our  j^eneration,  but 
may  be  in  that  of  those  who  arc  now  the  boys  and 
j;irls  under  your  care.  There  arc  two  ways  in 
which  you  may  work:  first  of  all,  by  pointinj^  out 
to  them,  as  forcibly  and  kiniily  as  you  can,  the  moral 
disij^race  and  crime  of  drunkenness.  You  may  help 
to  frame  the  public  opinion  among^st  the  working 
classes,  which  is,  after  all,  the  only  power  on  which 
we  can  ultimately  depend  for  the  deliverance  of 
this  cf)Uiitry  from  its  national  curse  and  misery. 
If  you  leach  the  working  classes  to  Icel  about 
drunkenness  as  the  middle  and  upper-classes  have 
been  tauj^ht  to  feel,  viz.,  that  to  be  seen  drunk  is  to 
forfeit  character  and  tt>  incur  disjj^race  and  infamy 
—  I  say  if  you  once  teach  the  workin<j-man  that, 
you  then  will  be  doinj;  more  than  can  be  done  in 
any  other  way  to  roll  away  this  enormous  evil,  and 
you  can  do  that  by  pointin*^  out  to  the  children 
that  drunkenness  is  both  a  fjreat  sin  and  a  ^xq^X. 
disi^racc.  You  may  also  confirm  what  you  say  by 
an  appeal  to  the  lower  j^rounds  (for  on  this  matter 
we  must  not  despise  any  grounds),  if  you  point  out 
to  your  children  this  undoubted  fact,  that  not  only 
drunkenness,  but  drinking,  is  the  main  cause  of  that 
pauperism  which  is  so  terrible  a  bane  in  our  great 
cities.  I  hold  a  little  leaflet  in  my  hand,  published 
by  the  Church  of  England  Temperance  Society, 
xvhich  shows  the  cost  of  a  daily  draught  of  intoxi 


On    Total  Abstinence.  151 

eating  liquors  per  year,  and  the  sum  it  will  amount 
to  it  put  out  to  interest  for  twent}'  years.  Two- 
pence (four  cents)  per  day,  for  instance,  comes,  with 
interest,  to  £Z6  (-430)  in  twenty  years.  Now,  here 
we  arc  not  dealing  with  theories,  but  with  plain 
and  palpable  facts.  Now,  how  many  families 
amongst  the  poor  are  content  with  a  single  pint, 
which  is  the  basis  of  the  reckoning  in  this  case? 
Suppose  the  jugs  to  be  filled  twice  a  day,  and  the 
cost  is  fourpence  (eight  cents),  that  is  £6  (^30)  a 
year,  or  £\']^  (^90)  with  interest  in  twenty  years. 
You  may  then  tell  your  children  what  they  would 
be  able  to  do  with  this  money  in  permanently  im- 
proving their  temporal  condition ;  what,  for  in- 
stance, they  would  be  able  to  do  in  the  way  of  pur- 
chasing houses  to  reside  in.  That  is  actually  the 
case  in  a  parish  which  I  know,  where  the  clergy- 
man has  labored  very  assiduously  in  the  cause  of 
temperance.  In  the  parish  there  are  sixteen  houses 
in  a  row,  one  after  another  built  by  common  labor- 
ing men  with  the  ordinary  wages  of  working-men, 
simply  out  of  the  proceeds  of  what  they  have 
learned  from  the  clergyman  to  put  by  instead  of 
spending  it  in  that  which  science  has  now  proved 
is  not  a  food,  not  a  source  of  health  or  strength,  not 
a  necessity,  but  simply  nothing  in  the  world  but  a 
luxury.  Is  it  not  obvious  that  if  the  poor  families 
who  are  crowded  by  thousands  in  the  vicinity  of 
this  Abbey  were  to  lay  by  that  which  they  are 
daily  pouring  into  the  publican's  tills,  their  condi- 
tion would  undergo  a  complete  change?  A  vision 
rises  before  me  which  is  almost  too  bright  to  be- 
lieve, and  yet  which  is  perfectly  possible  of  being 


15-  An  Atiiinss  to   Ttachcrs 

iclncvcd,  and  which  you  each  may  do  an  immense 
deal  to  achieve,  of  renovated  homes  and  of  rescuctl 
thouscinds.  Judi;e  after  jud^e,  |)hysician  after  phy- 
siciaii,  majjistrate  after  niaj^istrale.  all  the  govern- 
ors and  chaplains  of  our  jails,  all  who  deal  with 
the  crime,  disease,  and  pauperism  of  our  country, 
have  stated  that  if  once  we  could  unlearn  amonjjst 
the  workinjj-clas>cs  those  drinkinj;  habits  which  are 
short  even  of  drunkenness,  and  which  arc  so  uni- 
versal amonij  them,  you  would  brinjj  about  a  state 
of  thini^s  which  would  show  an  entire  abolition  of 
nine-tenths  of  our  crime,  nine-tenths  of  our  pauper- 
ism, and  nine  tenths  of  our  disease.  I  have  not  yet 
said  a  word  about  total  abstinence.  I  have  never 
said  to  any  one  that  his  or  her  duty  was  to  become 
a  total  abstainer.  I  prefer  that  they  should  decide 
that  question  absolutely  for  themselves  by  their 
own  imbiascd  judgment;  but  what  I  do  earnestly 
request  of  you,  as  one  who  has  had  the  honor  of 
belonging  to  your  class  and  being  the  master  of  a 
public  sch(X)l,  is  to  consult  for  yourselves  a  little  of 
the  literature  on  this  subject.  Vou  are  all  edu- 
cated. Vou  are  all  intelligent  men  and  women. 
You  are  capable  of  forming  a  conclusion  upon  the 
evidence  put  before  you  on  which  your  consciences 
can  rely.  I  would  only  ask  you  to  buy  the  **  Con- 
vocation Report  on  Temperance,"  published  by 
the  House  of  Convocation  for  the  province  of  Can- 
terbury, and  I  think  if  you  will  read  that  through, 
or  any  of  the  other  numerous  publications  on  this 
subject,  you  will  find  the  evidence  so  irresistible, 
that  you  will  in  some  way  join  the  ranks  of  those 
who  are  laboring  to  improve  the  temperance  of  this 


On    Total  Abstinence.  153 

country.  When  you  have  read  that  evidence  you 
can  decide  for  yourselves  whether  you  will  become 
an  abstainer  or  not.  I  will  tell  you  plainly  what 
made  me  one.  When  I  first  came  to  London,  the 
very  first  experience  I  had  showed  me  that  this 
was  the  curse  of  the  nation.  The  very  first  time 
I  preached  in  m.y  church  the  service  was  interrupt- 
ed by  a  drunken  man.  The  first  time  ray  wife 
went  to  visit  Westminster  Hospital  she  was  as 
nearly  as  possible  knocked  down  the  steps  by  a 
drunken  man.  The  first  pastoral  visit  I  paid  was 
to  the  room  occupied  by  a  woman  who,  though  too 
poor  to  pay  for  the  schooling  of  her  children,  yet 
was  able  to  spare  enough  for  a  consumption  of 
drink  that  forced  her  to  clutch  the  nearest  article  of 
furniture  to  save  her  from  falling.  With  experi- 
ences such  as  these,  what  could  one  do  but  take 
any  step  that  would  in  the  slightest  degree — were 
it  only  one  individual  or  one  famil}- — rescue  these 
people  from  this  state  of  degradation  !  If  there  be 
a  vast  amount  of  easily  preventable  crime  and  suf- 
fering, is  not  that  a  ver}'  small  sacrifice  —  a  very 
cheap  offering — to  make  to  God  for  the  purpose  of 
preventing  that  which  is  so  easilv  preventable? 
You  will  feel  when  3'ou  deal  with  the  children  that 
you  will  be  in  a  much  more  forcible  position  when 
you  are  able  to  sa}-,  "  Don't  grow  up  in  the  habit 
of  taking  these  things.  They  are  not  necessary  to 
you  because  they  are  not  necessarv  to  me."  If  I 
say  to  a  man,  '-  You  ought  not  to  drink,"  he  might 
answer,  "  I  feel  dreadfully  faint  and  overcome  by 
the  atmosphere  about  me,  and  the  squalor  of  my 
home,  and  therefore  I  go  to  the  public-house,  and 


154    An  AtUress  to  Teachers  on  Total  Abtsincnce. 

take  a  little  artificial  happiness,  which  makes  the 
pulse  of  life  beat  luorc  rapidly,  even  if  it  costs  me 
afterwards  a  in«)re  terrible  reaction."  ll  I  take  a 
glass  of  wine  when  1  feel  all  the  cares  which  the 
cler^Cyman  of  a  London  parish  must  feel,  antl  take 
my  ji^lass  of  wine  at  dinner  in  ortler  to  remove  that 
dejection,  I  am  doinj^  precisely  the  same  thinjj  as 
the  workinij-man  does  when  he  i^cws  to  the  public- 
house.  Certainly  1  do  not  S|>cak  of  total  abstinence 
as  any  virtue.  I  should  be  ashamed  if  I  took  so 
Pharisaic  a  line  as  to  s.'iy  I  had  done  that  which 
put  me  in  the  least  on  a  jjround  superior  to  others, 
but  what  1  do  say  is,  I  could  not  help  doinfj  other 
than  I  have  done,  I  was  driven  to  it  simply  be- 
cause I  fouiul  that  that  gave  me  a  firmer  standing 
when  trvinj^  to  persuade  others  to  do  the  same  by 
tellinsjj  them,  *'  If  it  is  not  necessary  for  me,  it  can 
not  be  necessary  for  you  ;"  and  I  am  sure  that  not 
only  I^r.  Richardson,  but  any  other  eminent  phy- 
sician will  bear  it  out,  that  for  whatever  class  of 
people  alcohol  may  be  deemed  necessary,  it  is  most 
absolutely  unnecessary  and  fatal  to  those  who  have 
as  you  have,  to  work  hard  with  your  brains.  If  any 
of  you  would  try  for  six  months  the  experiment  ol 
total  abstinence,  I  am  quite  sure  you  would  feel  an 
increase  of  mental,  if  not  of  physical,  power,  and  I 
ani  also  quite  sure  that  althoui^h  you  will  meet 
many  people  who  will  tell  you  you  have  done  an 
unscriptural  tliitic^,  and  who  will,  in  fact,  try  to 
persuade  you  you  arc  performing  a  great  virtue 
when  you  are  drinking  beer,  I  am  quite  certain  yoh 
will  have  done  that  of  which,  when  your  last  day 
comes,  you  will  have  no  occasion  whatever  to  fee 
ashamed. 


EXPERIENCE 


OF  A 


TOTAL  ABSTAINER. 

By  the  Rev,  Canon  Farrar,  D.D..  F.R.S, 


Rev.  Canon  Farrar,  in  taking  the  chair  to  pre- 
side for  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson,  at  one  of  his  lect- 
ures, referring  to  his  own  experience  as  a  total  ab- 
stainer, said  : 

Practically,  I  have  only  been  a  pledged  ab- 
stainer for  little  more  than  a  year,  because,  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  my  life,  having  had  the  happiness 
to  live  amongst  strictly  moderate  people,  I  never 
before  had  really  brought  home  to  me  the  extent, 
the  frightfulness,  and  the  ramifications  of  this  curse 
of  drink.  It  was  only  when  I  came  face  to  face 
with  it  in  London  parochial  work  that  I  felt  it  to 
be  imperative  at  once  to  take  that  very  small  step 
of  personally  abstaining  as  a  protest  against  the 
worst  evil  of  our  land.  So  far  from  feeling  any 
difficulty  in  this  matter,  I  experienced  none  what 
ever,  I  can't  take  any  credit,  therefore,  to  myself 
for  even  the  smallest  particle  of  virtue  in  having  be 
come  a  total  abstainer.  Before  that  time  I  had  al- 
w*ays  taken  a  very  moderate  amount  of  beer  or 
wine  during  the  day  as  an  ordinary  beverage,  ancj 
even  when  an  undergraduate  at  Oxford,  I  never  once 
had  a  bottle  of  wine  in  my  rooms,  and  so  far  from 


156  Expcr'uncc  of  a   Total  Abstainer. 

siiffcrintr  llirouLjh  j^ivinsj^  up  this  sinnll  amount  of 
drink,  1  have  to  stale  th:rt.  althouji^h  the  year  was 
for  me  a  peculiarly  disailvanta«]jeous  one  for  an  ex- 
periment, 1  in  all  respects  pained  bv  the  course   I 
took.     I   found,  for  instance,  that  althoujjh   1   had 
come  to  London,  not  likin«^  a  town  life,  but  natu- 
rally delif^htins^  in  the  country;  althouLjh,  ab(ivc 
all    thini::s  in   life,    what   delighted    mc    most    was 
watchini^  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  and  see- 
in*^  the  dew  fall  and   the  flowers  blow,  yet  havinij 
Dccn  called  away  from   that   to  the  foLjs  of  London 
life,  and  althoujj^h  I  am  peculiarly  sensitive  to  puri- 
ty of  air — in  spite  of  all  these  drawbacks,  so  far 
from  the  results  ha[)penincf  to  me  which  the  dole- 
ful chorus  of  my  friends  and  ctMupanions  predicted 
1  should  underj:^o,  I  have  been  better  in  every  re- 
spect.    Last  week,  for  instance,  havim^  been  called 
upon  in  a  maimer  entirely  alien  to  my  habits,  and 
the  most  opposite  that  I   could  desire,  to  address 
no  less  than  seven  large  auilienccs  of  from  two  to 
three  thousand  people  each,  in  five  days  together, 
with  long  night  journeys  from  London  to  Glasgow, 
Glasgow  to  Aberdeen,  and  Aberdeen  back  to  Lon- 
don, I  was  able  to  bear  all  that  fitigue  without  any 
personal    inconvenience,    which    I    am    certain     I 
should  not  have  been  able  to  do  in  the  days  when 
I  was  not  a  total  abstainer.     I  felt  inclined  to  think 
at  one   time  that  Dr.  Richardson's  lectures  would 
be  like  the  famous  Dr.  Traill's  definition  of  snakes 
in  Iceland,  consisting  of  the  four  memorable  words, 
"  There  are  no  snakes."     *'  There  arc  no  diflficultics 
in  learning  to  abstain."     I  feel  now  that  in   many 
ways  that  was  a  mistake,  and  Dr.  Richardson's  last 


Experience  of  a   Total  Abstainer.  157 

lecture,  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of  reading, 
brought  home  that  fact  to  my  mind.  There  are 
decided  difficulties.  There  are  social  difficulties, 
although  they  are  so  slight  in  this  day  that  they 
are  perhaps  hardly  worth  counting.  But  there  are 
physical  difficulties  arising  from  the  intense  hold 
of  habit ;  there  are  moral  difficulties  arising  from 
the  weakness  which  is  correlated  to  the  tree  of 
habit,  and  special  and  peculiar  difficulties  arising 
fiom  the  nature  of  alcohol  itself.  I  think  that  Dr. 
Richardson's  lectures  will  enable  many  to  persevere 
in  abstinence  who  have  begun  in  it,  and  thought 
of  giving  it  up.  I  have  met  a  great  number  of  the 
clergy  particularly  who  have  said  to  me  that  they 
became  abstainers,  tried  it  for  about  a  month,  and 
then  found  they  were  so  poorly  that  they  were 
obliged  to  give  it  up.  What  happens  is  this :  A 
man  has  been  accustomed  all  his  life  to  a  certain 
amount  of  beer  or  wine,  and  he  feels  a  certain 
craving  for  it  and  longs  to  go  back,  but  Dr.  Rich- 
ardson has  decisively  proved  that  as  long  as  there 
is  any  alcohol  in  the  system  it  creates  a  desire  for 
more.  Then  the  imagination  of  the  incipient  total 
abstamer  fixes  itself  upon  this  craving.  Every 
ailment  or  imaginary  ailment  is  at  once  intensified 
in  his  thoughts,  and  he  puts  it  down  to  total  absti- 
nence. Then  all  his  friends  renew  their  predic- 
tions, "  We  said  you  would  be  ill,"  and,  to  crown 
all,  in  comes  the  local  doctor  and  says,  "You  must 
take  wine  or  beer,  or  else  you  have  no  chance  of 
re^aininir  vour  previous  health."  An  eminent  cler- 
gyman  whom  I  know  stands  for  a  type  of  all  these 
difficulties.     He  said:  "  I  became  a  total  abstainer. 


158  lixf^truncc  of  a    Total  Ahtuvur. 

At  ihc  ciul  of  a  UK-nth  I  had  a  carbuncle  on  the  side 
of  my  nose,  and  on  cotisultini^  my  doctor  he  saiiJ, 
*  1  see  h(j\v  it  is;  it  is  entirely  owiujj  U)  your  havint; 
gjivcn  up  wine.  You  must  j;o  back  to  your  ordi- 
nary habits.'"  Now,  that  carbuncle  stands  as  a 
type  of  all  those  difficulties  with  which  Dr.  Rich- 
ardson has  to  deal.  I  am  sure  by  the  administra 
tion  of  a  little  plain  advice,  and  by  teachinjjj  peo[)lc 
they  must  not  suppose  that  every  ailment  of  a  total 
abstainer  arises  from  total  abstinence,  and  that 
alone,  he  will  have  done  a  very  great  service  to 
that  lar^i^e  number  of  excellent  people  who  see  that 
for  them  it  would  be  a  rijjht  and  proper  thinij  to 
abstain,  but  who,  havinjj  tried  it,  and  not  finding  it 
immediately  agreeable,  fancy  it  is  also  deleterious 
to  them,  and  so  henceforth  always  speak  of  total 
abstinence  as  a  kind  of  amiable  fanaticism,  which 
may  be  very  good  for  a  few,  but  impossible  for 
them.  I  think  that  the  service  performed  by  our 
lecturer  will  enable  all  those  persons  who  desire  to 
be  total  abstainers  to  go  on  in  that  course,  and  pre- 
vent them  from  being  weary  in  well-doing,  and  he 
will  enable  them,  by  giving  them  advice  which 
thev  can  easily  follow,  to  persevere  in  a  very  noble 
cause. 


ALCOHOL  AND  THE  STATE. 

12mo.         411  Pages.         Price  $1.50. 

By  Robert  C.  Pitman,  L.L.D., 

Associate  Justice  of  the  Superior  Court  of  Mass. 


The  National  Temperance  Society  has  just  issued  a  new 
and  important  work,  entitled  "  Alcohol  and  the  State,"  from  the  pen 
of  Judge  Pitman,  who  has  given  this  subject  a  life-long  consideration. 
It  treats,  with  great  conciseness  and  marked  ability,  of  what 
the  State  loses  in  various  ways  through  alcohol,  and,  in  turn,  of  what 
is  the  duty  and  proper  function  of  the  State  concerning  alcohol.  It 
is  of  a  high  order  of  literary  merit,  and  is  a  book  for  statesmen, 
legislators,  and  all  intelligent,  thoughtful  temperance  men  and  women 
everywhere.  It  shows  that  the  Liquor  Traffic  is  the  enemy  of  the 
State,  and  the  foe  of  all  the  objects  for  which  the  State  exists  ;  and 
presents  such  strong  arguments,  statistics,  appeals,  and  authorities 
as  will  add  greatly  to  an  intelligent  and  wise  solution  of  the  Liquor 
Problem.  The  economic  and  legislative  aspects  of  the  Alcoholic  dis- 
cussion have  never  been  so  ably  presented,  and  it  should  be  in  the 
hands  of  every  citizen  and  in  every  library  in  the  land. 

The  following  is  the  Table  of  Contents: 
Part  First- Alcohol  vs.  The  State. 


CHAPTEB 

I.  Preliminary. 

.    II.  Waste. 

III.  Destruction  of  Home. 

IV.  The  Parent  of  Pauperism. 
V.  Injury  to  Public  Health. 

VI.  The  Chief  Occasion  of  Crime. 


CHAPTER 

VII.  Vitiates  Human  Stock. 
VIII.  The  Universal  Ally  of  Evil— Th« 
Universal  Antagonist  of  Good. 
IX.  Is  there  a  Set-off  of  Benefits? 
X.  A  Case  for  Intervention. 


Part  Second— The  State  vs.  Alcohol. 


chapter 

XI.  The  Province  of  Law. 
XII.  Extent  of  Legislative  Power. 

XIII.  Liberty  and  Government. 

XIV.  Law  a  Necessity. 
XV.  License  Laws. 

XVI.  The  Necessary  Failure  of  License. 
XYII.  Half-way  Measures. 
XVIII.  The  Gothenburg  System. 


CHAPTEB 

XIX.  The  Milder  Alcoholics. 
XX.  The  History  of  Prohibition. 
XXI.  Prohibition  a  Success. 
XXII.  Maine  a  Crucial  Test. 

XXIII.  Secret  Drinking. 

XXIV.  Law  as  a  Teacher, 
XXV.  Enforcement. 

XXVI.  The  Outlook. 


Sent  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price. 

Addiess    J.  N.  STEARNS,  Publishing  Agent, 

d8  Iteade  Street,  Neiv  York. 


READINGS  AND  RECITATIONS, 

No.  3. 

I2mo.     f/j  p.i^c*.      Paper  Covers.  a5  ccnn      Cloth.  60  cents. 
Compiled  by    Miss    L     Pevney,    Editor  of    "  y.tfi^mi/    Temfemtue    Orato* 
and  "  ReaJim^t  and  Rtcilaliont,"  No*.  I  and  a. 


This  valuable  book,  just  issued  In  aniform  style  with  "  Readings  and 
Recitations"  Nos.  i  and  2,  contains  an  entirely  new  selection  of  articles  in 
both  prose  and  verse,  on  every  phase  of  the  temperance  question,  suiuble  for 
Declamutiun,  Recitation,  Public  and  Parlor  Readings. 

A  larger  iiuml>cr  of  articles  have  been  prepared  specially  for  this  number 
than  for  either  of  iu  predecessors,  and  its  list  of  authors  includes  John  G. 
Whitticr,   John   H    f:  I'         ht  Williams.   Dr.  J.  G.  Holland.  G«o. 

W.  Bungay.  Rev.  J       .  .   .     .      Aiti  Talmagc.  DD  ;  Dr   ».  W.  Rich- 

ardson,  T.  L  Cuyler,  D.D  ;  John  W.  Drew.  Edward  CarswcU.  Pansy,  Mrs. 
Susannah  Evans   Peck,   Ella  Wheeler,  and  others  equally  well-known. 

It  is  just  the  book  for  use  in  all  temperance  organizations,  at  the  public 
meeting,  and  at  the  fireside. 

The  following  is  the  uble  of  contents  :— 

POETRY. 

Battle  of  the  Rai.s  (The). 
Boys'   Rir.nrs. 


Demon  Ship  (TheV 

Disenthralled  (The\ 

Don't  Say  that  He  Died  Through 

Drink. 
Don't  Drink. 
Dot  H.\by  or  Mine. 
Dream  ok  the  Reveler  (The). 
Failure. 
Key-Note  (The). 
Legislation. 
Little  Bow  of  Blue  (A). 


:.E  (The). 


Losr  I. 

MOR.\I.      . 

Not  Lost. 

Objections  to  Good  Templausm. 

Oi:r  War  Cry. 

Ov:      V-     ,\RA. 

Pc:  i  SroRY  (The). 

Prj^km  Crisis  (The). 

Put  ir  Throliwi. 

Surrender  (The). 

Temperance  Arithmetic. 

True  Courage. 

Wh.\t  our  Country  Needs. 


PROSE. 


B.ATTLING  FOR  TeMPERANCF., 

Education  as  a  Cure  for  Intemper- 
ance.    (A  Stump  Speech). 

E.ktremes  Compared. 

Five  Minuted. 

Gain  and  Loss. 

Interrupted  Speech  (The). 

Mule  Story  (A). 

"  My  Daughter  Susan  "  Speaks  Her 
Mind. 

No  Surrender  !  No  Compromise. 

Our  Warfare  and  Our  Duty. 


Pirate  Alcohol  (The). 
Power  of  the  Press  (The). 
Power  (»p  Example  (The). 
Property  and  the  Traffic. 
Sabb.vth  and  the  Liquor   Traffic 

(Thei. 
True  Help. 

Unaccountable  Mystery  (.\.n). 
Undressing  Little  Ned. 
We  have  not  Begun  to  Fight  Yrr. 
We  Can  if  We  Will. 
Who  Did  It? 


Address 


J.  N.  STEARNS,  Piiblishin-  AsfPiit, 

5<i  Iteadc  Sttreet,  New  York. 


THE 

PROIlIBITIONISrS  TKXT-BOOK. 

12mo,   312   Pages.    Price,   $1.00. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  have  collected  to^  ;*bcr  and  juBt  published  In  one 
Tolume  the  f<jllowin?  most  valuable  arKumciits,  otatistics,  tet^timoniciJ  and  ap))i'al8, 
ihowiug  the  iniquity  of  the  licence  system  and  the  right  and  duty  of  prohibitionists. 
ft  Is  an  invaluable  hand-book  for  all  friends  of  prohibition. 

NUMBER    OF    rACiBS. 

Prohibition  Does  Prohibit.     J.  N.  Stearus,      .                ...  48 

Suppression  of  the  Liquor  Traffic.     Rev.  II.  D.  Kitcliell,  D.I).,  48 

The  Throne  of  Inicjuity.     Rev.  Albert  Barnes,  D.D.,       .        .        .  29 

Fruits  of  the  Liquor  Traffic.     Sumner  Stebbins,  M.D.,      .        .  24 

Maine  Law  Vindicated.     Ilea.  Woodbury  Davis,             ...  8 
Review  of  Ex-Governor  Andrew  on  License.      Rev.  \Vm.  M. 

Tliayer 8 

Indictment  of  the  Rum  Traffic.     By  Rev.  W.  W.  Hicks,      .  4 

The  Fruits  of  License.     Rev.  William  M.  Thayer,    ...  4 

The  Ballot  for  Temperance.    Rev.  James  B.  Dunn,        ...  4 

Natural  and  Reserved  ilights.     Rev.  Joseph  Cuiumin^s,  D.D.,  4 

Evils  of  License.     Rev.  Wm.  M.  Thayer 4 

Rum  and  Taxation  under  License.    Rev.  Wm.  M.  Thayer,  4 

Why  We  Oppose  the  Traffic,     Rev.  A.  Sutherland,        ...  4 

The  Rumseller  a  Robber.     Rev.  Luther  Keene,        .        .  8 

Accountableness  for  Evils  of  Intemperance.     Rev.  J.  C.  Foster,  8 

The  Evils  of  Beer  Legislation.     Rev.  James  B.  Dunn,  .  8 

What  it  all  Costs.     Ovid  Miner,  Esq., 4 

Practical  Workings  of  Prohibition.     Hon  Robert  C.  Pitman,      .  8 

National  Legislation.     A.M.  I'o  well,  Esq..  ....  4 

The  Sabbath  and  Beer  Question.     Rev.  Ueo  L.  Taylor,  .  4 

Moral  and  Legal  Suasion.     Hon.  Robert  C.  Pitman,   ...  4 

The  Hesults  of  Prohibition.     A.  M.  Powell,  Esq.  .      - .  4 

Law  as  an  Educator.     Rev.  Wm.  M.  Thayer,      ....  4 

The  Relations  of  Drunkenness  to  Crime,     ii^lisha  Harris,  M  D.,  8 

Constitutionality  and  Duty  of  Prohibition.     Rev.  II.  M.  Scudier  4 

Governor  of  Massachusetts  Against  License.     Hon.  T.  Talbot,  4 

The  Street  of  HeU.     Rev.  11.  T.  Cross 4 

Second  Declaration  of  Independence.     Rev.  A.  \V.  Corey,     .  4 

Constitutional  Amendment  on   the  Manufacture  and  Sale  of 
Intoxicating  Liciuous.     lion.  li.  W.  Blair,        .  .        .     13 

It  la  a  Btorehoase  of  fact,  arirament,  aLd  statistics,  and  ehoald  be  In  the  handB  o/ 
eveiy  iticturcr,  clergyman,  student,  and  every  one  who  is  interested  In  temperanc* 
Bent  by  mail,  poat-paid,  on  receipt  of  price. 

Address, 

J.  N.  STEARNS,  Publishing  Agent, 

58  Meade  Street,  New  York. 


PACKAGE  OF 

TEMPERANCE  DIALOGUES. 

ISTo.  X. 
FOR    CHILDREN    AND    YOUTH 

IB 

Schools,  Bauils  of  Hope,  and  other  Juvenile  Organizations. 
27  DIALOGUES,  U8  PAGES,  FOR  25  CENTS. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  have  just  published  a  package 
of  six  new  Temperance  Dialogues,  for  children  and  youth,  adapted 
to  schooU,  concerts.  Bands  of  Hope,  and  other  juvenile  organizations. 
The  names  of  the  Dialogues  are  as  follows: — 

Will**  a   ^ork<'r.     Hr  Mary  Dvvin»-ll  (.hplllii.     For  lhrp«  ifirU  9 

FiK'it    AKiiliiHt     Itiiiii    aii«l    Tobuoco.      liv    Mary    Dwinell 
(  iitllis       For  thr<''   U.v?*  niul  thrt-o  jjirls.  ...         .         .     6 

Counlliiff  Ike  C'oikt.     Hy  Mary  Dwinell  CbellU.     For  foar  boys.    .    4 

Bliiv   Bo\v<«.      liy  Mrs.  J.  McNair  Wttabt.    For  two  girla  and  two 

Ixiys     .............     4 

Curiiii;  It  Driinktird.    By  Mr««.  J.  Mo.N'air  Wright.   Fur  foar  (lirln.    4 

Tho  Xew   Pledgee.     By  Misa  Julia  Colman.    For  four  boys,  a  Pre*. 
idem  and  Secretary. 6 

These  Dialogues  have  all  been  written  for  the  National  Temperance 
Society,  and  will  be  found  inculcating  excellent  truth. 

One  Dialogue  for  each  character  put  in  a  package,  making  27  in  all, 
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Address  J".     IST .     STE^RISTS 


3 


5»  KEADE  ^TIIEET,  S.  V 


THE  DIVINE  LAW  AS  TO  WINES 

By  GEO.  W.  SAMSON,  D.D., 

Former  President  of  Columbian  University^  Washington.  D.C. 

i2mo,  326  Pages,  $1.00. 

Published  by  the  National  Temperance  Society  and 

Publication  House. 


-»-♦- 


This  is  a  thorough  and  scholarly  work,  by  G.  W.  Samson,  D.D. 
Years  of  careful  study  have  been  given  to  its  preparation,  aided  by 
personal  observation  and  extensive  inquiry  in  Eastern  lands.  The 
whole  question  is  treated  from  a  stand-point  and  acquaintance  with 
the  subject  which  commands  the  attention  of  scholars,  scientists, 
ministers,  and  all  who  are  interested  in  a  thorough  investigation  of 
this  most  important  subject. 

Dr.  Samson,  formerly  President  of  Columbian  University,  is  well 
qualified  to  treat  this  topic.  He  weaves  into  the  book  with  a  master 
hand  the  fruits  of  patient  inquiry  into  the  medical  and  legal  aspects 
of  the  question,  ancient  and  modern  ;  into  its  literature,  history,  and 
philology.  He  has  made  it  one  of  the  most  complete  discussions  in 
existence,  and  enriched  the  work  by  apt  citations  from  a  wide  range 
of  authorities,  critical  and  scientific. 

This  book  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  minister  and  student 
of  the  Bible,  and  of  every  friend  of  temperance.  The  book  will  be 
sent  to  any  address  on  receipt  of  $1.00.     Address 

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llo\*  wro  olMroiiii  llrliik.  By  Mra.  E.  if.  Thompaou    16  pagca.  5cU.  each.  "  .flO 

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Tlio  Kriill*  Tlioroof.     Bv  T.  K.  T'  ■•      5  cent*  each   ....  "  .«0 

Scrlpniro  <liaraclfri».     Ity  T.  K.  1 ,  .     ,  ..,-(i.     5  rtnts  each. ...  "  .UO 

.IIVIOXC;  XHI£  CllILUREM. 

Jhc  Calorlilain  on  .ilcohol.     By  MIm  Julia  Colman.    36  pa^ca "  .60 

Tlie   I'linpt-raiiru  <'ai«Miit«in.     By  Kev.  Jan.  D.  Duun  "  .«<> 

Itaiidoi    il  ope  iTI  a  II  iihI.     .'<<j  pnirea   "  .60 

IColl  ol  III r.     iriiH.' or  •ln::le  pledjje,  si*e«0  X  23  Inchea,  apace  for  »40  names    ..        .'iS 

<'«>rilll<  aii'x  <>l"  ^ionibor«ilitp per  hundred    3.00 

tlilldroii'»  llaiitl  of  Hope  I'ledae  and  Cortlflcate  combined   "  4.O0 

The  I'l  ••!:;e  liidulcs  tobacco  and  profanity.   Mz«.  1«  x  9*  Inche--,  In  color*. 
riiroino  Pledge  Card,    (onialnlnsc  cither  the  single  or  triple  pledge...        "  2.00 

F«n'k<-l  i'U'du€>-II«»ok.     With  space  for  SO  namea        lO 

Till'  r«'inp<raiiro  Speaker.     By  J.  N.  St^arnn.    288  pajjea 75 

llie  >ailoiial  Temperance  Or»Cor.     By  M  las  L.  Penney,    ISmo,  388  paxes 1.4»0 

lluiid  ol  Hope  .TIclodle*.     4S  pai.'cr'.     10  conts   per  hundred  1  O.OO 

lllpplfM  ol'Nuiis.     fil  p'i.;i'a.     .^Inirle  copies,  1.1  cents  "'  12. OO 

A  new  collerilo;i  of  Temperance  llvmnn  and  J>ongs.  dcsiinicd  for  children  at\<',  yonth 
in  S.ilib;»iii--chool9,  B.in.ts  of  Hope,  Juvenile  Templars,  Ca<leis  of  Temperance,  etc. 
Iteadiii:'*  and  itecltatioiiM,  \oit.  1  and  2.   %  pa;,'e8.   By  Miss  L.  Penney.  Each        .95 
luveiillc  Teiuperauce  .'Vlannai.   By  JnliaColmau.    157pp.   Cloi  h,  60  cla.;  paper,       .25 

THE    YOUTH'S    TEMPERANCE    BANNER. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  and  Publication  Oonse  publish  a  beantifiilly  Illustrated 
Monthly  paper,  cspccu'ly  adapted  to  Children  and  Youth.  Snnday-nchool  aiiil  Juvenile  Temper- 
ance Or^'-iniz.ations.  F.acL  nunber  contains  several  choice  eDgravintpt,  a  piece  of  mnsic,  and 
I  great  variety  uf  articles. 

r«rm«(   Ca»h  in  Jdc/ince^  inrliitHMgr  Poitazf' 

Binirle  copy,  one  ycAr .35    1     50  Copies  to  one  addrcas  6.75 

» C«pl«a  to  one  addreaa 1.08    |    100       "  "  "        13.00 

Address  J.  N.  STEARNS,  Publishing  Agent. 

lis  Jientlr  SIrrrf.  S<  ir    YorU. 


STANDARD  TEMPERANCE  WORKS. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  have  issued  a  number  of  standard  temperance  works 
from  the  pens  of  some  of  the  best  writers  in  the  world  upon  the  vital  principles  upon  which  the 
temperance  reform  is  founded.    The  following  should  be  in  the  bauds  of  every  friend  of  tem-    I 
perance  and  in  every  library  in  the  land.    Most  of  these  are  in  paper  covers,  as  well  as  in  cloth  / 
Diuding,  for  wide  circulation :  * 

Alcohol  and  the  State.    A  discussion  of  the  problem  of  law  as  applied  to  the 
-  liquor-traffic.    By  Rol)ert  C.  Pitman,  LIj.D.,  Associate  Judge  of  Superior  Court  of 
Massachusetts.    12mo,  411  pa<jes $1.50 

It  treats,  with  great  conciseness  and  marked  ability,  of  what  the  State  loses  in  vari- 
ous ways  through  alcohol,  and,  in  turn,  of  what  is  the  duty  and  proper  function  of  the 
State  concerning  alcohol. 

Oar  'Wasted  Kesources.  The  Missing  Link  in  the  Temperance  Reform,  giving 
the  most  valuable  statistics  ever  published.  By  Dr.  Wm.  Hargreaves.  12mo,  202 
pages.    Price,  in  cloth,  .$1.25;  paper  edition  .50 

On  Alcohol.  By  B.  W.  Richardson,  M.A.,  M.D.,  F.R.S.,  of  London,  with  an  intro- 
duction by  Dr.  Willard  Parker,  of  New  York.  12mo,  190  pages.  Cloth,  $1.U0; 
paper  covers .50 

The  ProhibitloiiUt's  Text-Book.    12mo,  312  pages.    Cloth,  $1.00;  paper,        .50 

This  volume  contains  the  most  valuable  arguments,  statistics,  testimonies,  and  ap- 
peals, showing  the  iniquity  of  the  license  system  and  the  right  and  duty  of  prohibition. 

The  Divine  Lniv  as  to  Wines.    12mo,  290  pages.    By  George  W.  Sampson, 

D.D.    Cloth 1.00 

This  is  a  new  and  thoroughly  scholarly  book,  examining  the  entire  question  from 
200  years  b.  c.  to  the  present  time,  and  conclusively  showing  that  the  Bible  nowhere 
eanctions  the  drinking  of  intoxicating  liquors. 

Talks  on  Temperance.    12nio,  15S  pages.    By  Canon  Farrar,  D.D.    Cloth,  60 

cen(!«;  paper 25 

This  book  contains  ten  sermons  and  talks  by  this  eminent  divine.  They  are  filled 
with  sound,  convincing  arguments  against  the  lawfulness,  morality,  and  necessity  of 
the  liquor- tratHc,  as  well  as  stirring  appeals  to  all  Christian  men  and  women  to  take  a 
firm,  decided,  outspoken  stand  in  favor  of  total  abstinence  from  all  intoxicating  liquors. 

The  Text-Hook  of  Temperance.  Historical.  Biblical,  Physiological,  Statisti- 
cal, Political,  and  Moral.  It  gives  a  thorough  discussion  of  the  entire  question. 
By  Dr.  F.  R.  Lees,  F.S.A.    12mo,  :3!2  pages.    Cloth,  Jtil.'io;  paper  edition 40 

The  Temperance  L.esson-Book.    By  B.  \V.  Richardson,  M.A.,  M.D.,  LL.D., 

F.R.6.     12mo,  220  pages TS 

This  is  a  series  of  fifty-two  short  lessons  on  alcohol  and  its  action  on  the  body, 
accompanied  with  suitable  questions,  designed  for  study  in  public  and  private  schools 
and  reading  in  schools  and  families. 

Readings  and  Recitations,  No.  3.    Compiled  by  Miss  L.  Penny.    12mo,  % 

pages.    (;ioth,  GO  cents;  paper 25 

A  collection  of  new  and  first-class  articles  and  selections,  both  prose  and  veree,  em- 
bracing argument  and  appeal,  pathos  and  humor,  by  the  foremost  Temperance  advo- 
cates.   Suitable  for  Declamation,  Recitation,  Public  and  Parlor  Readings. 

Al«ohol  and  the  Human  Brain.    By  Rev.  Joseph  Cook.    12mo,  24  pages —  10 

Beer  as  a  Beverage.    An  Address  by  Rev.  Q.  W.  Uughey,  in  reply  to  the  appeal 

of  the  Beer  Congress.    12mo,  24  pages 1" 

Juvenile  Teniperanoe  Manual.    By  Miss  Julia  Colmau.    12mo,  140  pages. 

Cloth,  60  cents;  paper  covers 2» 

Bacchus  Dctltroued.    Cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  edition 60 

Alcohol  as  a  Food  and  ITIedlcine.    By  Ezra  M.  Hunt,  M.D.    12mo,  137  pages. 

Cloth,  60  cents;  paper  edition 2(» 

Any  of  the  above  sent  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price. 

Address  J,  N.  STEARNS,  Publishing  Agent, 

58  lieade  Utt'eet,  New  York. 


TEN  LECTURES  ON  ALCOHOL. 

Bj  BLNJAMIN  W.  R10nAIii'.^u.N,  MA  .  M.D..  F.B.B., 

FtUfw  »/lk*  Kfyml  C»iUfi  »f  Pkftif Umt,  Ltmd^m,  tl. . 

lamo,    340    pges,    clolh,    #I.(H>.      \''\^t    covi . ,,    .»0    cent*. 


The  National  Temperance  Sxtiety  have  just  publUhcd  in  one 
volume  all  the  1  s  by  Dr.  Richardson  on  A!-  hich  in '"  c 

of  the  mo*t  va!.. .  ■.■   ..!ul  cheapest  books  ever  pu.,.. ....  >i.     It  Ct....j....cs 

ihr  fo!Io\vin;j: 

Oil  Altultul.     With  aa  lalrodacUoa  bj  Dr.  Wlllard  Park>"  ■•' 

New  York I'tO 


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The  Action  or4l«*«liol  on  llir  llod>  ami  on  llir  tliiid.         1% 

T"  —'■•'''■"•--'  '•  — ..■■.'  ',,1  ,rnl  citrn.lfd  rc»c«rrh- 

t»  It  '>lol,  and  tr*  •rnvti^  lb« 

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Itlo4l4-iat4>  Drtukiag;  Fur  aod  Agaiost,  from  Scientific  I'oinU 
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■n<t  I  people  ' 

The    !TI<-ili«':il     l*i-nr«'*>si<iii    aiul     Alcohol.     An    AddrcM 

before  tbe  nrltlpb  Mt>tlicAl  A««ocUtion St 

■  Ido  A  very  i-.irnoi't  npp  '        • 

poniliiii:  vi(  r'v  ;:ii:"'r'  -._■■'        i       -    i  '  .- 

■  hi<'  -Una  of  tbU  cooaUj,  mawnc 

Wbii:  tl. 

Tlie    l.iberly   of  the    Abject,  uud    \\\\y    I    becauir 

an   Abalaliier IS 

S40 

Address       J.  N.  STEARNS,  Publishing  Agent, 

5fi  Jieade  Street,  New   York, 


-t 


Th     K„  .  ^Angela 

ThubookuDlEonthclaMdau 


•"»P<<1  l*cl 


OH. 


RECEIVED 


UUKL 


MAR  J 


315 


